Harry Potter and the Order of the Crimson Eye
by Chemiclord
Summary: Several years after fulfilling the prophecy between himself and Lord Voldemort, Harry has finally found peace in his life, and well as landing his dream job. But nothing ever goes smoothly for the most famous wizard in the world...
1. Invitations

**Harry potter**

**And**

**The Order of the Crimson Eye**

**Chapter One: Invitations**

"Potter! Office! Now!" Alastor Moody bellowed.

Twenty-two year old Harry Potter jerked to full alertness, afraid that the senior Auror had noticed him dozing off at his desk. Even though Moody was in his office, that meant little; his magical eye was not at all bound by minor obstructions, such as walls. He could tell that his superior was in a sour mood judging from his tendency to abandon things such as verbs when angry.

Nervously, Harry stood up, and crossed the room towards Moody's office, intentionally ignoring Draco Malfoy's snide chuckling. How that man managed to pass all the tests required to be an Auror perplexed him to no end.

Finally, he stood in Moody's doorway, nervously shuffling his feet. "You called, sir?"

"Get in here and close the door." Moody said gruffly.

Harry complied, trying not to look too guilty as he did so.

"Sit down."

Once again, Harry slowly followed orders, as if moving too quickly would somehow insult the older Auror. Moody leaned back in his chair and kicked his feet up on his battered oak desk that Alastor had likely owned for years, several papers floated to the floor in the process, and Harry began to stoop down to pick them up.

"Let 'em be. They aren't important." Moody stated, and Harry jerked back to a fully upright position. "Getting a little bored, are we, Potter?"

"Oh no, sir. I'm quite fine, really." Harry denied.

Moody's eyes narrowed. "Potter, how long do you think I've been an Auror?"

Harry blanched; afraid this was one of those questions that he would answer wrong regardless of what he said. "Long enough, I would suppose."

"Then don't you think I'd be able to spot a bald-faced lie from a kilometer away?"

"No, sir… I mean… yes, sir!"

"Then let's try this again… Getting a little bored, are we, Potter?"

"I… suppose so, sir."

Moody sighed, and it seemed like all the anger floated away with it. Moody's voice was softer when next he spoke, almost wistful. "Don't worry about it, Potter. I'm bored out of my skull as well. That's what happens when there just isn't anyone wanting to cause trouble. I've been an Auror for years now… years of staring death in the face. Now with Voldemort gone for good, thanks to you, things have been downright quiet. I'm sure that wasn't what you signed on for."

To be honest, Harry didn't mind the fact that he hadn't had to do anything extraordinarily heroic since passing the final exams to become a fully licensed Auror. By the time he had turned eighteen he had plenty enough adventure to last him the rest of his life. He became an Auror to help if he was needed, but he certainly didn't want to go looking for trouble.

It was traditionally more than capable of finding him on its own without any help…

"Can I ask why you called me in here, sir?" Harry asked with a slight degree more boldness now that it became increasingly apparent that he wasn't going to be yelled at.

Moody grabbed his wand from his pocket, and flipped it towards his incoming mail box across the room on a filing cabinet next to his coat hook. "Accio Potter Letter!" Moody said, and a long white envelope floated across the office to Moody's hand. Once secure, he handed it across the desk to Harry, who took it with a baffled expression.

"This came in for you today. He needed my okay before he could officially ask you. Since there's nothing here for you to do, I figured if you could be useful elsewhere, I couldn't exactly refuse."

Harry was only partly listening to Moody, his heart racing as he recognized the wax seal across the letter's flap; a large capital letter "H" surrounded by a shield bearing four different magic creatures. Almost impatiently, he ripped open the letter and examined the contents. It bore the official Hogwart's letterhead, giving Harry a slight sense of nostalgia.

**_To Mr. Potter,_**

Harry smiled slightly as he noticed that the writer of the letter had scratched out that first line, and had started again.

**_Dear Harry,_**

**_I am glad to see that you are doing well. Mr. Moody has had nothing but glowing things to say about you and your time spent under his care. I certainly hope that the lack of action is suiting you._**

**_Nonetheless, I would like to make you an offer. As it turns out, my most recent Defense of the Dark Arts professor suffered an unfortunate accident during final N.E.W.T exams, and is unable to return for the coming year. Somewhat interestingly, she became my most tenured Defense Professor in some time simply by showing up at the start of this last year._**

Harry chuckled at that. It certainly seemed that position had been cursed his entire time at Hogwarts, no one lasting longer than a year. It was truly amazing for him to learn that someone had actually survived to teach consecutive years.

**_I thought about supplying notice to take interviews for the now vacant position, but as I thought about it, the more only one name came to mind. It has come to the point where I can see no one else fitting the position other than you, Harry. After the adventures you have had, the perils you have lived through, I suspect if you cannot survive more than two years, no one can._**

**_Please give this offer deep consideration, although I do wish that you give me a positive reply. I fear I will run out of people capable of teaching the class soon if the current trends continue._**

**_With Care,_**

**_Albus Dumbledore_**

**_Headmaster_**

**_Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_**

P.S. I suspect Professor Granger would be thrilled to have you nearby again. There are times where I fear she will worry herself ill wondering what dangers Auror life is leading you into.

Harry's mind was doing flip-flops, trying to convince himself that this wasn't one giant joke. He certainly wouldn't hold it beneath Malfoy to do something so utterly cruel. He pointed at the letter, and asked incredulously, "Is this for real, sir?"

Moody smiled, "Dumbledore handed it to me personally. Grinning like a Cheshire cat the whole time too. The man is fond of you, and I suspect that he would be over the moon if you were to accept."

"Do you think I should?"

"Well, it's not like you're doing much of anything worthwhile here, now are you?" Moody asked rhetorically. "I'm too old to be running around after a bunch of little kids with wands and no idea how to use them. I can barely handle grown men with wands and no idea how to use them." He chuckled at his own joke, then continued, "You on the other hand… you know more about the Dark Arts through personal experience than anyone your age has the right to. I have to agree with Dumbledore, you'd be perfect."

Harry smiled dumbly, staring back down at the letter. To go back… to see all the people and places that had given him strength in his young life. It was still almost a little too good to be true.

Moody stood up, and put his hand on Harry's shoulder. With a knowing smile, he said, "I'll owl Dumbledore, and tell him the good news…"

Upon returning to his flat on Diagon Alley that afternoon, Harry was reminded how quickly news spread in the wizarding world. Hedwig was hooting rather crossly at a number of owls perched on his deck, and there was a pile of letters on his dining room table.

He randomly plucked one from the mess, and examined the handwriting before opening up the letter with a chuckle.

**_Dearest Harry,_**

**_I almost could not believe the news when Dumbledore told me of his decision. I was absolutely floored, to say the least. Professor Snape is going to have a coronary when he finds out. He was so certain that the Dark Arts position would finally be his after all this time._**

**_I'm so happy for you! We must plan some sort of Hogsmeade trip for lunch or something once you get here. It's seemed like ages since we've talked face to face. I must admit I'm looking forward to having you around. It will be like old times, only without the fear of detention!_**

**_Your loving friend,_**

**_Hermione_**

Harry smiled warmly as he set the letter down. Hermione had almost instantly been hired after graduation to take over as Professor of Arithmancy, first as an assistant then two years later as the full professor. Contrary to what she implied, it had hardly been ages since they had met, as they spent most holidays and frequent weekend lunches together, although those meetings had become less frequent once Hermione had become a full-time professor.

The next letter he opened was from Ron, somewhat surprising since he was constantly on the move. Ron had made the most of his dream, becoming a professional Quiddich keeper. Unfortunately, his name frequently appeared in trade transactions, and he was presently in France, as Harry recalled, although somewhat shamefully, he couldn't remember the team Ron was currently playing for.

**_Hey there, Harry,_**

**_Well, who would have thought… you… a professor… after all the stunts you pulled as a student. I suppose you couldn't have been given a subject more up your alley though. Although I still say that you should have went with me. With me guarding the goal and you grabbing the snitch, we'd have won more cups than can be found in the Hogwart's kitchen._**

**_Harry rolled his eyes. He had decided a long time ago that he just didn't have it in him to be a professional seeker. All the moving around just wasn't for him._**

**_Well, anyway, coach's here… guess it's game time, so I must be off. Congratulations though, hope you have fun. Don't do anything I wouldn't do!_**

**_Your bestest pal,_**

**_Ron_**

**_P.S. Give Snape some hell for me. I know he's not as bad as he pretends to be, but he's still a git at times._**

**_P.P.S. Tell Hermione I said hi, and tell her I'm sorry for not sending her last birthday present on time. Silly girl has been guilting me for months about it._**

The next letter he opened turned out to be from Mr. and Mrs. Weasely…

**_Dear Harry,_**

**_Words cannot express how proud Arthur and I are of you. We cannot think of anyone more deserving of such an honor. We have no doubt that you will be the finest Defense Professor Hogwarts has seen in years._**

**_Give Albus and Hermione our regards, and if you see that globe-hopping son of ours, remind him that he does have a family, and said family would appreciate an owl now and again._**

**_Yours truly,_**

**_Arthur and Molly Weasely_**

Following that was a letter from his father's old friend, Remus Lupin…

**_Dear Harry,_**

**_Congratulations. If only Lily and James were able to see you now. You do them both a great honor, and I suspect you will continue to do so for many years to come. I'll admit that I was wondering how long it would take for Dumbledore to finally decide to ask you… I know that he's been considering it for a couple years now, at least._**

**_By the by, Nymphadora Tonks wants to extend her congratulations as well._**

There was a line of blank space, and then a different hand picked up…

**_Way to go, Harry! Smashing job!_**

Another line of space, then Remus's pen apparently took over the letter once more.

**_Anyway, I wish you the best. Hopefully you last longer than I did. Good luck, and have a pleasant year._**

**_Your friend,_**

**_Remus Lupin_**

The rest were various well wishes from acquaintances and various Ministry officials, as well as one rather amusing interview request from Luna Lovegood for her father's paper, the Quibbler.

Finally, he made note of another sealed letter from Dumbledore.

**_Dear Harry,_**

**_I thank you for accepting my offer. It will be good to see you mulling about through the halls of Hogwarts once more… only preferably without an Invisibility Cloak. All professors are asked to submit their lesson plans for approval by the seventeenth of July, and are expected to arrive at Hogwarts by the twentieth of August. I can arrange travel for you if you need, but I suspect you haven't lost all your skills with a broom._**

**_I am looking forward to meeting you on the twentieth of August… Professor Potter._**

**_Albus Dumbledore_**

**_Headmaster_**

**_Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_**

Harry looked at his calendar. The seventeenth of July was a little more than a month away, but since he had no idea just how long it would take for him to put together yearly lesson plans for seven different classes of seven different levels of education, he figured he probably should get started as quickly as he could rather than wasting time.

He froze for a moment as he pondered what had just come to his mind. Hermione had more of an effect on him over the years than he ever realized until just now…

Summers had never traditionally moved quickly for Harry. Whether the time was spent with the Dursleys during his school years, or alone in his flat afterwards as an Auror, the days of summer tended to move quite slowly. Not that it was necessarily a bad thing… but boredom is never the most welcome of houseguests.

However, the current summer was by far the slowest of the lot. It had moved pretty quickly at first as Harry spent countless hours in order to complete the lesson plans by the deadline Dumbledore had put forward, but once that was done, and the plans accepted, everything slowed to a crawl. There had actually been a point in early August where he had awoke, and could have sworn the calendar at his bedside had turned back to the day before.

Nonetheless, August twentieth did eventually arrive. Harry had slept fitfully that night, simply too excited to be able to fall into a prolonged slumber. Finally, a couple hours before the sun was due to rise, Harry was sipping a cup of coffee, and readying his Firebolt for the trip to Hogwarts. If he recalled, it wouldn't take very long to make the journey, but he simply couldn't count on himself sitting still any longer. He felt like he was eleven years old again.

He opened the glass slider leading out to his balcony, closed then magically locked it, made sure his cloaking charm was active, mounted his broom, then jumped over the rail of the deck, catching a convenient updraft that helped his ascent into the pre-dawn sky.

The sun was barely beginning to peek over the horizon by the time that Harry could see the lights of Hogwarts shining from afar. Smiling gleefully, he began his descent, feeling the majestic energy of the school the closer he drew to its shores.

He circled once around the old building before deciding to set down in the main courtyard, keeping as wide of a berth from the Whomping Willow as he could possibly manage. With all the grace that Gryffindor's most renowned seeker would possess, Harry made a perfect landing on the soft grass, cleanly dismounting, and snapping his Firebolt up to his shoulder.

He had barely taken two steps when he heard a familiar female voice shout, "He's here! He's here!" Harry turned full about just in time to get nearly tackled to the ground as a bushy haired woman threw herself at him, clenching him in a tight hug that seemed far too strong to come from such a slight frame.

Hermione Granger looked up happily, and it once again surprised Harry how he was now that much taller than she was. It seemed like only yesterday that they were able to look eye to eye without so much as tilting their necks.

Harry returned the embrace, but without quite the same enthusiasm. "Well, good morning, Hermione. I figured I'd be the first one here."

Hermione pulled herself away reluctantly, and said, "I arrived yesterday… there were some things I wanted to finalize with the library to make sure they had the books I would require for the students."

Harry laughed. "Why am I not surprised? How many books have you assigned the poor children to read this year?"

She huffed at the teasing, and answered, "Arithmancy is a very complicated subject, as you should well know. There is no one book that can adequately capture the full nature of the problems and solutions required in a manner that I would deem adequate."

"That didn't answer my question."

Hermoine huffed once more, and began to stride towards the old castle turned schoolhouse. "Only two books for the third and fourth years, if you must know. My fifth, six, and seventh years have four."

"You are going to drive some family like the Weaselys into poverty with that sort of load." Harry smirked.

"That's why I wanted to make sure the library would have adequate copies." Hermione retorted defensively. "Only one book for each year is required if they simply want to pass. It's for the students who actually want to learn more that I assign the additional texts." She then smiled deviously, and remarked, "Not that you'd know anything about that."

Harry made a mock pained gasp. "You wound me, Professor Granger. I could never have met the requirements to be an Auror without sufficient study and scholastic achievement."

"Then why is it that I notice you didn't assign many texts for your classes?" Hermione asked playfully. She knew that he had not been the most avid book learner, and that such a tendency would reflect in his teaching.

"Defense against the Dark Arts is more of a practical application thing, in my opinion." Harry replied. "There's only so much you can learn about it from reading about it. Remember that near wasted year under Umbridge's 'expert tutelage'?"

Hermione groaned at the memory, but then snikered, "Yes… fortunately, 'Dumbledore's Army' helped keep ourselves on track with our continued education."

"That's the point. I want my students to actually be able to defend themselves, not just know how. That requires a great deal of hands-on practice." Harry said with a playful arrogance.

"More like you can't stand reading anything that doesn't involve Quiddich for more than five minutes at a time." She shot back, effectively knocking Harry down a full peg.

They finally entered the school proper, and Harry asked, "So… who all is here already?"

"Well… Dumbledore and the Heads of the Houses never leave as far as I can tell, and if they do, it isn't for very long. Outside of that, so far there is only me and you…"

She was cut off as the sound of heavy boots filled the hall, and an absolute behemoth of a man stepped around the corner they were approaching, snatching Harry off his feet and into a bear hug that forced all the air from his lungs.

"… and Hagrid." Hermione finished with a chuckle.

"Harry! It's good to see you again! You really should visit more!" The half-giant said with glee, not even waiting for Harry's response before he added, "Then again, you'll be here all year now, so you really don't have to visit, now do you? To think, Harry Potter at Hogwart's once again. It brings a tear to me eye. Lily and James would be so proud, bless their souls."

Finally, Hagrid went silent enough to hear Harry gasp, "…need… air…"

"Oh." Hagrid muttered sheepishly, releasing the panting new professor, and allowing Harry to regain his lost breath.

Once Harry had done so, the younger man asked, "So, I assume you're still teaching Magical Creatures, correct?"

Hagrid nodded, "Between Firenze and I, we do a good job. He knows almost as much as I do."

Harry's eyebrows furrowed. "I thought Firenze helped Trelawney in Divination…"

Hagrid nodded again, "He does. About two years or so ago, he figured if he couldn't be a full teacher in one area, he'd half-teach in two."

Hermione rolled her eyes, and she chided, "I told you about that when it happened, remember?"

Harry paused for a brief moment then slapped his forehead, now remembering the lunch with Hermione roughly two summers prior in which she did bring up said topic. "Right… well pardon me if I didn't find it to be information to stow at the top of my head for future use."

Hermione playfully jabbed him in the side. "Of course. The great Harry Potter can't be expected to remember details of his mere mortal friends' lives."

"You make it sound like I don't care…" Harry protested, but looking down at Hermione, and her huge grin quickly dispelled his worries.

"I remember when you wouldn't even show your teeth when you smiled." Harry shot back, causing Hermione to gape in disbelief.

"I can't believe you'd bring that up!" She said.

Harry returned her original grin, and replied, "I can't believe you'd imply I didn't care about my friends."

Hagrid interrupted them before they began to reveal any humiliating secrets. "I suspect you'll be wanting to report to Dumbledore… tell him you've arrived and all."

"Oh, yes!" Harry remarked. "I assume he is in his office?"

"That he'd be." Hagrid answered with a wink. "I figure that you would know the way by now."

Harry turned towards Hermione, and said, "Actually, it's been such a long time, and apparently my memory is not as keen as it should be. Perhaps I could use an escort?"

"I would be honored." She answered with a grin, taking stride with Harry as they parted Hagrid's company, and resumed their path towards the headmaster's office. Unfortunately, it seemed like every staircase was against them, shuffling either just before or just after they stepped on, forcing the pair to take a much longer route than what would normally have been necessary.

Finally, when they had successfully navigated the moving stairs, Harry felt something he never thought he would feel again.

There was a sudden pang in his scar… nothing seriously painful, but as if an invisible hand had flicked him in the forehead. It lingered for a pair of heartbeats then faded as completely as if it had never happened at all. Five or six years ago, Harry would have barely acknowledged the sensation… but at this point, it was so unexpected that Harry froze in place, the fingertips of his right hand drifting over the lightning bolt shaped mark in complete disbelief.

Hermoine turned back to see why Harry had stopped, then went still herself. She knew Harry well enough to know what had just happened, and it chilled her to the bone. "Harry… don't start playing games with me…" She demanded somewhat fearfully.

Harry knew better at this point in his life than to lie to her. "I don't mean to worry you… but for a moment… my scar tingled. The only time I ever felt anything was when…"

"Don't say it!" Hermione shouted. "Voldemort's dead. You killed him yourself! I watched you do it!"

Harry held up his hands, as if trying to ward her off. "I know that! Besides, it's gone now." Noticing Hermione's disbelieving expression, he reiterated. "It is! You have to remember, Voldemort spent quite a few years here as well… who knows what sort of things he left behind. Anything tied to him I suspect would have the potential to set off my scar."

Hermione didn't appear completely convinced, and said. "Perhaps… but I think you should inform Dumbledore anyway."

Harry had gotten used to the somewhat motherly nature Hermione adopted towards him whenever she felt he might be in even the slightest amount of trouble. Nevertheless, that didn't mean he couldn't be annoyed by it. "Herm, I am a big boy now. I don't need Dumbledore checking every little nook and cranny in this castle for mean nasties trying to snatch me as I walk through the halls."

"But…" Hermione began, but Harry interrupted her before she got any further.

"If it happens too many more times, or gets worse… then I'll tell Dumbledore about it. However, at this time, there is nothing that would indicate it is anything more than an isolated incident brought about by some long dead remnants of years past." He caught Hermione's defiant look, and amended, "I'd appreciate it if you didn't bring it up, either. He's no doubt got quite a few things to do before the year starts. I'd rather not bother him with tingling in my scar until I'm a little more certain it's a problem."

"Are you… sure?"

"Positive. Trust me on this one, okay?"

Hermione seemed ready to object again… but just as Harry had learned some things about Hermione over the years, so had she learned things about him. Pushing the issue would only lead to an argument and perhaps a grudge that she couldn't afford to give him if she wanted to keep an eye on him. So, with a silent nod, she agreed to his decision.

There was silence for a brief time as neither of them moved immediately. Finally, Harry smiled, and motioned to the hall, saying "Lead on, my guide. The headmaster waits."

In the reception area beneath Dumbledore's office awaited yet another familiar face. Professor Minerva McGonagall was apparently making sure everything was ready for the coming year. When she caught sight of the approaching pair, she quickly dropped everything to meet them. Literally. The box she had been carrying fell with a deep thud on the stone floor of the room, and the book underneath her arm soon followed.

"Mr. Potter…" She began, trying to fight back tears, her voice catching as she smiled. "Welcome back. I hope that this time around is a little more pleasant, and a little more peaceful than your first time with us."

"I suspect it will be, ma'am." Harry said with a smile and a slight bow.

McGonagall shook her head, and corrected him. "Professor Potter… I think you're a little old to be calling me that. Professor McGonagall will suffice in public, or even just McGonagall. I suppose you could even call me, Minerva, in private if you are feeling particularly bold."

Harry flushed at the very idea of calling the Head of Gryffindor House by her given name. "I don't think I'll ever feel that bold… Professor McGonagall."

The aged woman laughed rather heartily. "Miss Granger said the same thing when she first became a professor. She quickly realized the truth of the matter, didn't you, Hermione?"

Hermione's eyes twinkled in remembrance, and she nodded. "Indeed I did, Minerva."

"I suspect that Dumbledore will wish to see you, Harry, so I won't keep you any longer. Once you are finished, I'm sure Miss Granger will be able to show you to your dormitory and any other places in the school that you might need to be reminded of. We have made a few changes too… it would do well to know them."

"I shall do so." Harry said in parting, "I suppose I shall see you again soon enough. Good day."

McGonagall paused then said with a grin, "Dumbledore might be in his study, so you might need the password to open the stairway. If I recall correctly, it is 'Flapweeders' for this week."

Harry waved in acknowledgement and asked Hermione, "Are you going to come up as well?"

His friend shook her said, and replied, "No. I suspect Dumbledore will want some time to admire the fine job he did with you without other eyes peeping in."

Harry scoffed humorously then turned towards the statue that guarded the stairwell up to Dumbledore's private office and study. Saying the password clearly, the statue began to rotate away, the spiral staircase taking its place steadily in the process. Harry began to climb the steps as soon as there was room to squeeze through, taking the steps two at a time in his haste to reach the top.

He reached the final step as the staircase locked fully into place, the sudden stop to the rotation causing him to stumble and nearly fall flat on his face. Fortunately, the balance he attained during his Quiddich playing didn't fail him, and he recovered before making a considerably less than graceful first impression as a professor before the headmaster.

Dumbledore had not been in the study after all, instead sitting behind his desk, barely visible behind a stack of various, apparently magical items and unidentifiable knick-knacks. Because of the impeded view, Harry couldn't clearly see what he was doing, but apparently, his arrival had taken the old headmaster somewhat by surprise.

Fawlkes, Dumbledore's phoenix, crowed softly, and that caused his owner to jerk with a start. There was a little nervous shuffling of what sounded like paper behind Dumbledore's desk; then the headmaster jumped to his feet, and emerged out into the open.

"Harry, how nice to see you! I wasn't expecting you until later." Dumbledore said with a smile that reminded Harry of the rising sun that was now creeping into the office window. "Had I been paying attention like I should have, I would have straightened a few things up before you arrived."

"I got impatient." Harry replied with a shrug and a half-grin. "Besides, and I mean this in no offense, sir, your office never struck me as anything resembling orderly in all the years I had been in it."

Dumbledore's eyes gleamed with a playful vitality that no one his apparent age should have possessed through any natural means. "There is always a method to my madness, Harry. Unfortunately, every summer I seem to inexplicably acquire an ever increasing number of trinkets that I have no conceivable use for that tests my method to its fullest." There was a pause, then Dumbledore said sternly, "And I insist that you call me Albus, Harry. I simply will not tolerate such formal displays of respect while we are in this office."

For some reason, it was much easier for Harry to breach that matter with Dumbledore than it had been with Professor McGonagall. "I think I can manage that, Albus." He said with a laugh.

"Well… I suppose I should get to business." Dumbledore chirped, reaching into a pocket on the left side of his robes, and pulling out a ring of keys. "These will allow you entry into all the pertinent rooms in the school that I foresee you might have reason to enter. If you encounter the need for entry into any others, please let me know."

Harry nodded, taking the key ring and placing it in his own pocket. Meanwhile, Dumbledore continued, "As you requested, I have reserved the main feasting hall in the mid-afternoon for practical defense lessons. I have also made the South Courtyard available throughout the day if you see the need for further instruction. And as always, the exterior grounds, with the exception of the Forbidden Forest, are available."

"That will do nicely. Thank you."

"Unless you have any other questions, I do need to return to my work, and I suspect you probably need to get settled in as well. I believe either Hermione or Minerva knows where your dormitory is, and I suspect will not hesitate to show you."

The next four days moved by rather quickly, as there was a surprising amount for Harry to do before it was time to go to Platform 9 and ¾ at King's Crossing. As the newest professor, it was his duty to escort the students on the train towards the Hogwart's Express, then on the boats leading to the school. Before he did that, he also had to make sure that everything in his classroom was as he liked it, and that all the different practice grounds were suitable for what he planned.

He was also bothered by the occasional pangs in his scar, something that was now beginning to worry him. It still wasn't anything painful or profound, but the frequency of the sensations were beginning to become more than he could dismiss as sheer coincidence. After he returned with the students, he determined to set aside some time to bring the matter to Dumbledore's attention.

Checking the magical time hand at the south end of his dormitory, he decided that it was time to prepare to meet the train as it left for London. He checked his person once more to make sure he had everything he thought he'd need, tucked his Firebolt under his arm, and then stepped outside his door…

…only to nearly run into Severus Snape.

There was a pause as both men instinctively stepped back then they both seemed to realize simultaneously just who the other was. Snape's frown deepened into a full sneer, and his voice was injected with enough venom to kill a giant.

"So… if it isn't Hogwart's personal celebrity himself." Snape said. "I hope you realize that there are rules for professors as well… not that it matters to you, does it?"

Harry grinned, and shot back, "Let me assure you that I fully understand my duties, Severus."

The Slytherin House Master recoiled in shock, before it was replaced with indignant anger. His voice bordering on full bellow, Snape hissed, "Don't ever call me that again, or…"

"Or what?" Harry interrupted in challenge. "You'll give me detention? You'll take points from Gryffindor?" He allowed a spiteful laugh to escape his lips before adding, "The way I see it, Professor Snape, I don't have to deal with your bitter sniping and asinine attitude quietly anymore."

Snape huffed, and retorted, "You never did before. I can't imagine why you would start now."

Harry then took a bold step forward, staring Snape directly in the eye, their noses almost touching. In the back of his mind, he was again reminded as to how he had grown, as he barely had to look up to do so. "Two can play at these games, Severus. If you intend to give me or my house a hard time because of some petty jealousy from before I was born, let me assure you that I will do the same. I do not, and in fact, will not, put up with your antics any longer. Am I clear?"

"Crystal." Snape drawled. If looks were spells, Snape would have cast the Killing Curse several times in the ensuing silence.

Harry finally stepped back, his point made. He doubted that Snape would actually change his attitude, but at least the man couldn't claim that Harry hadn't given him fair warning. Turning his back to the head of Slytherin House, Harry casually called back. "Well, I suppose I should meet the train and escort the students now. You see, unlike you, when I am given a task, I actually do it…"

As Harry left, he didn't need to look back to know that Snape was red with barely reined in fury. Harry wound his way out of the school, hopped onto his Firebolt, and took off across the channel to the mainland, where the Hogwart's Express was preparing to leave.

The trip to King's Crossing was quiet, but Harry was certain that wasn't going to last. He couldn't fight back the smile that crept on his face… remembering all the times he took this train as a student, the excitement and happiness he felt as it rumbled towards Hogwart's… as well as the dread and misery he felt as it rumbled away. Harry sighed… nostalgia always did that to him.

He had another such moment as he watched the student's of various ages begin to load themselves onto the train. He remembered all too well the awe of being a first year as they beheld the wonders of the platform and the excitement of going to such a magical place as Hogwarts. He also remembered the nervous excitement of the fourth and fifth years, around long enough to no longer be awed by the majesty of the school, but starting to feel the burden of the tests and responsibilities of older students. Finally, he could also clearly recall the calm excitement of the seventh-years, anticipation of what lied ahead as they entered their final year as students, and prepared to enter the adult world.

It took roughly three hours for all the students to arrive, and situate themselves in the various cabins aboard the train. When that was settled, the train lurched, and began to pick up speed. Harry braced himself on the handrail along the main aisle of the fourth car until the train reached full speed. Once he felt sure enough of his own footing to move again, Harry decided to seek out a cabin to sit down in himself. He moved towards the forward cars, where the first years were generally placed, worried that sitting with older students that might recognize him wouldn't be the best idea.

He casually peered into several cabins as he passed; looking for one that was reasonably empty. He finally found one three cabins from the engine car on the left, a group of two girls and a boy, likely first-years from the way they were completely transfixed by the view outside the window.

He rapped on the door, and the noise caused the occupants to jump in surprise, their expressions somewhat blank as they turned to him. He pointed towards the benches they were sitting in and asked, "Is there room for one more?"

They didn't respond right away, their faces dumbstruck as if they were having problems processing the question asked. Finally, the girl closest to the window managed to nod, and say, "Sure… scoot over Freddy." She then flipped a hand at the boy sitting across from her, who complied, unable to take his eyes off Harry.

Harry sat down, unnerved by the awed staring from the other occupants. He had grown quite used to it after a while, and the reverence usually died away rapidly as people got to know him.

"Are you… _the _Harry Potter?" The girl on his left asked, wide-eyed in amazement.

Harry grinned, and answered, "No… just _a_ Harry Potter." He then put his index finger up to his lips, and added, "But be quiet or every cabin is going to want one."

That caused a slight chuckle to ripple through the three children, and it helped serve to calm them at the same time. Noticing this, Harry asked, "So, since it appears you all know who I am, perhaps you can tell me who you are."

Instantly, the girl on his right, the one nearest the window, spoke up. "I am Prima Patil."

Harry's eyebrows raised, "You wouldn't happen to be related to a Padma Patil?"

Prima's eyes danced happily, "She's my aunt. Is it true that you were in the same year as she was?"

"It is." He suddenly wondered why he hadn't guessed before… the family resemblance was uncanny.

Prima became a little bolder then asked slyly, "Then is it also true that you took her to the Yule Ball in your fourth year?"

Harry grimaced slightly. The resemblance was more than just in appearance, "Yes, I did." He conveniently left out the fact that Padma had really been his last choice when he couldn't find anyone else on such short notice. Deciding to derail this potentially embarrassing line of questioning, he turned to the other girl, and asked, "And what's your name?"

"Julie Fitzsimmons." She replied, with a slight degree of shyness, like she wasn't exactly sure how to address him. "Why are you here, Mr. Potter? There's not anything dangerous about this train ride, is there?"

Harry laughed. "No, of course not. The newest professor generally is required to escort the students to Hogwart's. Nothing more than that."

"Newest… professor?" The boy next to him queried, as if he had just received a piece of unexpectedly good luck.

Harry nodded, "I'll be teaching Defense against the Dark Arts this year, Freddy…" He let his voice drop off as a hint that he wanted the boy's last name.

"Cole… but I prefer to be called Frederick." He added with a slightly irritated glance towards Prima. "She's my neighbor, so she thinks she can call me whatever she wants."

"I've been calling you Freddy since we were four." Prima retorted unapologetically. "Seems silly to get in a fuss over it now."

Fredrick huffed, not at all convinced, and looked up to Harry for help in the matter. He shrugged, and said, "I actually like being called Harry." Seeing Prima's triumphant grin, he added, "But you should always respect a person's wishes."

Prima recoiled, then her feature's dropped to point where it looked like she was about to cry. "I… suppose you're right. I just call him Freddy because he's been such a good friend… and Fredrick makes him sound like a prissy snob. But if that is what he really wants…"

Harry had to fight back the laugh bubbling in his lungs as he watched poor Fredrick wilt under Prima's forlorn expression. Harry knew enough to know that poor Freddy didn't have a chance. Sure enough, the boy shuffled his feet nervously, and said, "I guess it's all right if you call me that… but no one else… okay?"

Instantly, Prima was bubbling over with happiness once again. "Oh, thank you, Freddy! I knew you were a true friend!" She then leaped over the distance between them and gave him a friendly hug, in what Harry figured was almost overdoing it.

Harry then noticed that Julie was staring off into the aisle, as if trying not to feel left out. So he asked, "Are you all friends, then?"

Julie started with a bright red flush then shook her head. "No… I don't really know them. I don't know anyone here. I didn't even know Hogwart's existed until a couple of strange men in robes came up to my door, and handed my parents a letter. My parents were both… Mudholes… or something like that."

Prima sighed, and corrected, "Muggles."

Again, Julie flushed. "Oh… yes, that's right."

Harry had a huge swelling of sympathy in his gut for the shy first year girl. "I know that feeling. Wondering just what this big new world you stepped into is, wondering if it was all just one huge mistake, and that you really don't belong here."

Prima's eyes widened in disbelief. "But… but… you're Harry Potter! Everyone knows you! Your parents were two of the bravest wizards I've ever heard about!"

Harry nodded, "That's true… but I never knew them. I was raised by my aunt and uncle, who didn't tell me really anything about them or the life they lived. I didn't know a thing about wizards or witches or any of it until a guy named Hagrid, you'll meet him at the end of the train ride no doubt, burst down my uncle's cottage door on my eleventh birthday."

He then devoted his next words to Julie. "I am going to tell you what I wish someone had the foresight to tell me. You're here, and you belong, and there is going to be a whole army of other people that are going to take you right in and watch out for you and make sure you feel welcome, just as you will do for others in time. I can promise you that."

"Are you sure?" Julie muttered, daring not to hope. "What if they're wrong about me?"

"Well, I can't say that Headmaster Dumbledore is perfect… but I can say I've never seen him make a mistake about a wizard or witch yet. If you got the letter, if you're here on this train, you're one of us… and you'll never be lonely again."

Suddenly, Harry felt his scar begin to tingle once more. His features went ashen, and his hand instantly drifted to his wand. Whatever was triggering his scar, it had followed him to the train…

"Professor Potter… is something wrong?" Freddy asked, suddenly concerned.

Julie froze on the spot, her face going as pale as Harry's. "I knew it… I knew there was something bad about this train."

"No… everything's fine… just say here." Harry mumbled, he leaped to his feet, and stuck his head out the cabin into the aisle, and saw a flap of what appeared to be a long black cape disappearing behind the door that connected the second and third passenger cars.

There were some quizzical stares from several students who stuck their heads into the aisles to see the grown man briskly walking to the back of the car, his hand clenched around his wand in his pocket. He didn't want to run and risk upsetting the students, but he could feel the sensation fading, and by the time he had reached the door, it was gone again. Even though he was sure he would find nothing, he slid open the door, and peered into the adjoining car. Sure enough, the aisle was empty.

Unfortunately, Harry didn't have time to bring the issue up with Dumbledore before the Sorting Ritual and Year's Opening feast. He determined to discuss it with the Headmaster either right after the feast, or the following day before classes began. There was no doubt in Harry mind now that the sensations in his scar were sheer chance.

What could the tingling mean? Could he have possibly failed? Could Lord Voldemort possibly still be alive? The Dark Arts Master had survived his apparent death once before… could he have done so again… waiting… plotting… gathering his strength once more in order to get his revenge? If so… why wasn't his scar reacting stronger to Voldemort's presence? Perhaps Dumbledore would understand what was occurring better than he was.

He was so engrossed in his thoughts that he hadn't even realized the Sorting Hat had finished its long winded poem until Minerva (it stunned him to realize that he was already thinking of Professor McGonagall by her first name), stood up and called out, "ABBOTT, HENRY!"

A portly looking blond boy stood up tentatively, and approached the stool in which the Sorting Hat was sitting. Harry remembered the nervousness when he had approached the Sorting Hat a full eleven years ago to this day, and he hadn't even been the first one of his class to be called. It must have been simply nerve-racking for the poor child before him now.

The hat was placed on his head, and it seemed like the hat had gathered a bit of a sadistic streak to it, as it waited for several minutes, thoughtfully humming to itself as sweat began to bead on Henry Abbott's head. Slight murmuring and whispering began to fill the hall as both student and professor alike began to openly wonder what was taking so long, and if finally someone had made a mistake, and brought a potential student with no… potential. Finally, the Sorting Hat grinned, laughed, and exclaimed, "HUFFLEPUFF!"

Every living being (and even a few of the not-quite-so-living-anymore beings) exhaled simultaneously in shared relief, and poor Henry Abbott staggered away with weak knees towards the Hufflepuff table. Minerva glared down at the Hat, and said warningly, "Let's not repeat that little game if you will. You took a full year off my life with that stunt."

The Sorting Hat didn't reply, and Minerva was forced to call out the next name on the list. "ANTANUS, MAURI!"

This time, a black haired, pale faced girl from the back stood, and strode towards the stool. If she felt any nervousness after the first incident with the Sorting Hat, she didn't show it. Inwardly, Harry was almost certain where she would go.

The Sorting Hat, however, had different ideas, and again proved to Harry that appearances can be deceiving. Fortunately, it didn't wait nearly as long to make its proud proclamation of, "RAVENCLAW!" With a smile, Mauri Antanus strode with equal confidence towards her new house table, as if she had not possessed a shred of doubt in the world.

Several more names were called before he heard one that he recognized. "COLE, FREDERICK!"

Harry watched the grinning young boy with the short cut brown hair skip down the aisle to the Sorting Hat, plopping down on the stool with his hands on his lap. Harry couldn't help but grin as the Sorting Hat fell almost completely over his face, then three seconds later crow, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry clapped enthusiastically for the first student to be chosen to his old house, and noticed that Hermione next to him was doing the same, and that even Dumbledore was putting a little more energy into his congratulations. The three of them only stopped out of respect for the next student as she approached the stool.

Finally, Minerva got to a name that drew Harry's full attention. "FITZSIMMONS, JULIE!"

Harry's heart caught in his throat as the rosy cheeked, almost waif-like auburn-haired girl took her first nervous steps down the aisle towards the Sorting Hat. Harry almost felt like he was taking each long, heart-pounding step with her, terror and excitement mixing into one ball of emotion building in his gut. She reached the stool, took her seat, her legs trembling, biting down onto her lower lip with her eyes clamped shut.

Harry discovered he had closed his eyes as well, and simply couldn't find the strength in himself to open them. If there was any sense of decency in this world… if there was any just power watching over the people on it… Julie would have to be put into…

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The ball of emotion in Harry's stomach burst out in the form of a deep sigh of utter relief, and it had only been the final shreds of his dignity that kept him from jumping to his feet and cheering. Nonetheless, if he clapped harder than anybody for any incoming student for the entire Sorting Ritual, no one questioned or even blamed him, although Hermione did give him a curious glance for several minutes afterwards.

The rest of the names didn't hold any great interest in him, save for a passing notice that Prima Patil had been sorted in Ravenclaw, and thus, was not at all sorry that the long process ended with Kylie Zytara being sorted into Slytherin. Finally, Dumbledore stood to give his opening address to the students of Hogwart's.

The headmaster stood, and said, "Greetings to all of you. For those who are returning, I welcome you back for another hopefully productive year. For those who are new, I welcome you for the first of hopefully many productive years. I wish to inform you that the Forbidden Forest is named Forbidden for a reason, and is not to be entered. I also advise you to locate your house Prefects and introduce yourselves as soon as possible. They are here to help you as much as lead you, and they can answer many, if not all, of the questions you may have."

"There are a couple items that I wish to make note of before we begin our feast. Firstly, I wish to announce that we have a new professor among us, and that he will be taking over Defense against the Dark Arts in place of Professor Gunlan."

There was a groan from some of the older students, but Dumbledore raised a hand to silence them. "I suspect many of you are familiar with him, either from meeting, or by reputation, so without further ado, I bid you to welcome Professor Harry Potter."

Once again, the familiar awed silence followed as Harry stood up, and nodded politely to the students. Finally, a round of applause and some whoops of excitement filled the main hall, leaving Harry to sit back down with the beginnings of a blush forming on his face. Hermione placed her hand on his arm, and whispered, "See… they love you already…"

"Just wait until I have to give detention to one of them." He muttered back, forcing his friend to fight back a giggle.

Dumbledore again raised his hand to request for silence, and it was respectfully granted to him in short order. "One last bit of news that I doubt you will find nearly as exciting, but is important to note nonetheless. Mr. Filch, the caretaker of this school, is unable to perform his duties for this year." There was a small burst of cheers from a few students, but any further displays were silenced by various Prefects and the disapproving glare from Minerva. Seemingly nonplussed by the interruption, Dumbledore continued, "To replace him, I have hired an old friend of mine, and I suspect he will serve adequately in Mr. Filch's absence."

Harry's scar suddenly began to tingle again, and he looked down to the end of the hall, where a tall man in a large black trenchcoat, shirt and pants with deeply tanned skin and jet black hair combed down halfheartedly around his head, had suddenly appeared. His hands were stuffed in the pockets of his coat, and his eyes, covered in sunglasses, casually regarded the hall. Harry swore that the man looked like something out a Muggle movie he had recently seen called "The Matrix". He had been the man Harry had glimpsed on the train, and also had little doubt that he was the man that was causing the unusual sensations in Harry's scar.

While there was no way Harry could prove it, he somehow knew that their eyes met, and that the man was staring directly at Harry, though the man's face showed no sign of any change in expression. Meanwhile, Dumbledore stated, "I would like you all to meet Mr. Troy Ailona… our new caretaker…"


	2. Troubles with Troy

**Chapter Two: Troubles with Troy**

Harry decided there was one distinct advantage to being as famous as he was. When he started talking about Defense against the Dark Arts… students listened, and they were loathe to question him, even the ever curious first-years.

"The Disarming Spell is one of the most useful spells you can learn when defending yourself against another wizard." He said, lifting his wand for effect. "Miss Fitzsimmons, may you come here please?"

Julie's eyes widened, and for a moment, she was too awe-struck to comply. Then flushing red with embarrassment after Prima nudged her in the side, Julie hastily shuffled up to the front of the classroom in front of Harry. "Thank you, Miss Fitzsimmons. Now, just stand right there and face me." While Julie complied, Harry took ten paces back to create ample room for the students to actually see what was about to happen, while keeping both himself and Julie relatively in eyesight. "Now, what I want you to do is raise your wand as if you're about to cast a spell."

Slowly, even cautiously, Julie raised her wand as if she was terrified that Harry was going to attack her. He smiled reassuringly, and then with a snap of his wrist, called out, "_Expelliarmus_!"

There was a ripple in the air that shot from the tip of Harry's wand towards his student, and Julie cringed somewhat, covering her eyes with her free arm and holding her wand as far away from her as she could. Her wand hand wrenched upward, and her wand flew out of her grip, clattering to the floor about four meters behind her. After a couple seconds she dropped her off arm, and opened her eyes.

"Typical Muggle-born…" One of the Slytherin students, a haughty looking boy by the name of Norrell Durstrong joked. "Are you scared of the mean, nasty wand?"

Harry moved so quickly that it surprised everyone in the room. Before Norrell had even finished, Harry was standing over him, looking down menacingly at the boy.

"One more comment from you, Mr. Durstrong, and I will show you just why you _should_ be scared of my 'mean, nasty wand'." Harry growled. "I have precious little doubt as to the things Professor Snape lets you get away with in his classroom. Let me assure you that you will _not _get away with them in mine. Five points from Slytherin, and the next time you speak before being spoken to, it will be ten."

He turned away to return to his position at the head of the classroom as Julie recovered her wand from where it had fallen. "Thank you, Miss Fitzsimmons, you may return to your seat." He waited for her to do so before continuing, "As you can see, the Disarming Spell can be extraordinarily useful. In the right situation it can give you the few seconds you need to get away from whoever is trying to attack you."

"Run away?" Frederick said in surprise.

"Of course, Mr. Cole. At this point in your young lives, your first concern should be to preserve your own well-being, not to try and win a duel against a wizard who likely is much more learned than you."

"But you never ran away from anything!" He retorted with a great deal of shock. "Even as a first-year!"

Harry couldn't fight back the grin that crept on his face. "That's because I was stupid and didn't know any better at your age."

The woman who appeared in the doorway leading to the main hall couldn't help but laugh to hear those words come out of Harry's mouth. Harry turned to the sound, and said with a smirk, "Well, I'm glad you find my lecture so amusing, Professor Granger. Did you stop by just to laugh at me, or is there another purpose to your visit?"

"Actually, I came to inform you that your class was supposed to end two minutes ago. Apparently, the session chimes are malfunctioning at the moment." Hermione declared.

"Oh!" Harry said, his students closing their books and preparing to leave before Harry even had the chance to dismiss them. "Remember, next time we will be in the South Courtyard to practice our Disarming spells!" He called out over the increasing noise, and waited next to Hermione as the students filtered out of the classroom in a disorganized mess. He placed a comforting hand on Julie's back as she passed by, and gave her a warm smile before mouthing, "Good job." The girl's face brightened, and she paused a brief moment before dashing to rejoin her housemates.

"Looks like someone has a little pet." Hermione teased.

"She reminds me a bit of myself in a way." Harry answered with a shrug. "I guess I want to see her get the chance to thrive here like I did."

Hermione didn't say anything else on the matter, and changed the topic. "So, are you ready to get about on our patrol?"

Since there were eight class sessions in each school day, and each professor taught seven classes, that meant every professor had a one hour open session, which they were to use for whatever odd tasks they felt up to taking, like patrolling the halls for wayward students or other such mischief.

"Actually, I need to make a quick visit to Dumbledore. I need to talk to him about my scar…"

Hermione gasped. "It's not going away?"

"No." Harry said with a shake of his head. "As a matter of fact, I think…" His statement was interrupted when he felt his scar begin to tingle once more. Surely enough, Troy Ailona, the current caretaker of the school, emerged around the corner and began to approach.

Hermione waved her hand and said, "Good day, Mr. Ailona."

The dark clothed man nodded towards them, and said with a distinctly northeast American accent, "Good day to you, Miss Granger… Mr. Potter."

Harry returned the nod in greeting, and trying to act naturally said, "So I see Dumbledore finally realized that Filch just couldn't do the job anymore."

Troy gave a single, short, snorting laugh, and remarked dryly, "Something like that."

"Usually Filch was in bed by the time the sun rose, to get ready for another night of patrolling the halls." Hermoine noted. "Yet I've seen you around almost all day since classes started. How do you manage that?"

The caretaker shrugged, and answered, "I don't need much sleep, I guess."

"Well, don't burn yourself out before Christmastime." Harry quipped.

Once again, Harry felt like Troy's eyes were boring into him through the deep, black, sunglasses the man wore. "I suspect I will be fine. Now, begging your pardon, professors, I have tasks that require my attention. I will be on my way now." He gave the pair a slight bow before going on the move again, the gentle pulsing in Harry's scar going right along with him.

"He's not too bad of a sort, really. Rather quiet, but he's by and large polite to everyone here, even the students. It's amazing how the children listen to him… then again, I suppose he doesn't look to be the sort I'd want to get angry." Hermione said then suddenly added, "You were saying something about suspecting something about your scar."

Harry for a moment debated just what to tell her… then reminded him it would likely be for the best to just tell her the truth. "I think that… he…" Harry pointed down the hall where Ailona had walked away, "… is the one who is setting it off."

Hermione gasped. "Are you sure?"

Harry nodded, "I think he was on the Hogwart's Express as well. I saw his trenchcoat for a brief moment before I could catch him. Whenever he gets close to me, I feel it."

"Well then, you better tell Dumbledore of this immediately!" Hermione ordered.

Harry rolled his eyes in amazement at how quickly his friend would let worry affect her. "I just said that was what I was going to do, remember?"

Hermione grinned wryly, "Well… I remember how you can be, so I thought I'd make sure you remembered. You have a tendency to forget to depend on others at times, in case you hadn't noticed."

"Life as an Auror has changed that tendency, I can assure you. Besides, my desire not to burden anyone with my troubles nearly cost me my life and the lives of everyone close to me. I don't intend to let that happen again." Harry declared; the memory of his seventh year still burned brightly into his memory.

"Well then, let's not waste any more time." Hermione said, grabbing hold of Harry's shoulder as they made their way, as if to make sure he wouldn't back out of his promise at the last minute.

Dumbledore looked busy when they reached his office five minutes later… but then again, he was busy most of the time with his myriad of duties as not only the Headmaster of Hogwarts, but with a bevy of other positions with other wizarding councils and groups. Nonetheless, he dropped his quill and looked right up at Harry before the two young professors had reached the top of the stairs.

"Greetings, Harry. I trust everything is going well so far." Dumbledore said casually.

Harry rubbed the back of his head, then cringed when Hermione jabbed him in the kidney, a not-so-subtle gesture to make him quit stalling. "Actually… there is a problem… Albus."

The cheer in Dumbledore's face immediately drained away. He braced his heavily bearded head on his hands, and said softly. "What sort of problem?"

Now that Harry was right there, looking at the deep, almost sorrowed concern on Dumbledore's face, he wasn't sure if he wanted to tell the old headmaster about something that he was suddenly less sure was a serious issue at all. He eventually fought off the urge, and rededicated himself to informing Dumbledore of everything, but by then, Hermione grunted in frustration, and interjected on his behalf.

"Harry's scar has been… going off, Albus."

That did exactly what Harry had feared. Dumbledore's face had grown grim and pale, the shiny grey hair about his face seeming to visibly dim. "Is this true, Harry?"

Harry nodded slowly, and said as if in rationalization, "It's not like the pain I felt when Voldemort was around… just itchiness, an occasional tingle, nothing like when it felt my forehead was going to explode."

Dumbledore nodded, and said, "I will investigate the matter immediately, I can assure you. No doubt dear old Tom Riddle still has a presence in this castle."

Harry began to say something, started to stop, then noticed Hermione's disapproving glare. If he didn't say anything, she would. "Actually, I'm already quite certain who is responsible."

Albus leaned forward slightly. "Do tell."

"I… I think it's… Mr. Ailona."

Dumbledore made a curious sound in the back of his throat, and just as quickly as his cheeriness had melted away a mere minute before, the dread on his face did the same, to be replaced with what appeared to be piqued curiosity. "Interesting… and you are certain of this?"

"I feel it everytime Troy is nearby… and it goes away as he leaves."

Dumbledore looked like a great weight had been taken off his shoulders, and he said reassuringly, "In that case, I can promise you that you have nothing to worry about, Harry. Mr. Ailona wishes you about as much harm as I do."

"Then why does his presence make my scar react?"

"That I cannot say offhand. Troy is… unusual, in many regards, not even I fully understand it. I'd have to do some looking into the matter. But I can say with the certainty of every fiber of my being that you have nothing to fear from Mr. Ailona."

"How can you be so certain?" Hermione asked.

"Troy is a personal friend of mine, and has done many useful tasks for me in the past. I have also been in a great share of situations in which my life has been in his hands. Had Troy been the duplicitous sort… I suspect he would have shown it by now."

"Then why was he on the Express?" Harry questioned.

"Troy was acquiring some more of those worthless gadgets that I told you I can't seem to stop collecting. I suppose he decided to take the train back rather than return on his own. I can understand why he'd like to avoid the Knight Bus if at all possible."

Harry was about to retort, but Dumbledore appeared so utterly sure of his opinions that Harry decided any further discussion would prove ineffective. Giving Hermione a guiding hand on her back, he left the Headmaster's office. They immediately set off on their rounds, but naturally, Harry's mind was on other things.

"Albus is hiding something from me…" Harry finally stated, his voice beginning to reflect frustration and anger.

Hermione stiffened. She knew where this sort of emotion would lead Harry, and she was determined to cut it off before it got started. "Dumbledore has never lied to you, Harry. If he says Mr. Ailona is no danger to you, then he isn't."

"Then why does my scar react to his presence?" Harry challenged. "Dumbledore's been wrong about people before. Professor Quirrell as an example. Voldemort hid right under Dumbledore's nose for a year."

"You're not suggesting that… no… do not even think it! I was there…"

Harry's eyes gleamed solemnly. "I know you were there, Herms. I know you each and every one of the twenty-three Killing curses I shot at him, and then the Banishment charm that sent him to the land of the dead. But… what if… that still wasn't enough?"

"It has to be Harry… it has to be…"

"I can't just assume that. Especially now that I know that Voldemort would do anything in order to get to me… including torturing and even killing my friends. I'm not going to let that happen to people like you and Ron ever again."

Hermione shuddered. She still carried the marks of said abuse, one of them the scar on her chest where she had been forced to drink her own blood straight from her own heart, or the rope burns on her ankles where she had been hung upside down for hours and hit with a constant barrage of Crucius curses. Hermione had actually been lucky in that regard. Poor Neville Longbottom had succumbed to it all… his mind broken, his body battered… the young man simply gave up, passing away with his head in Hermione's lap.

Nonetheless, she stopped, grabbing Harry by the shoulders, and protested. "Please… I can tell just by your eyes what you plan to do. Don't… don't make me sick with worry while you go right into the thick of potential danger. Outside of your scar, there is nothing to indicate that there is anything out of place."

"But…"

"If something happens… I will be right there to help you investigate every possibility." Hermione promised. "I just don't want to ruin this peaceful time unless we can be certain that something is amiss. Harry… I'm tired. I'm tired of worrying about you… about what might happen to you… of what I'd do if something did… of what we'd all do… I'm just tired…"

"Well, maybe you can start by not worrying about me." Harry growled. "In case you haven't noticed, since apparently Dumbledore hasn't, I am a grown man. I'm a big boy now, okay? I think I can handle myself. If Voldemort is still somehow in the land of the living, I intend to bring him down _before_ he becomes a threat to others this time."

Harry stomped off at the next intersection, and Hermione wisely decided now was not the time to press the issue. She had seen that look in Harry's face before, and she liked it even less now than the first time she had seen that emotion twisting his features. The face of the Harry Potter of roughly five years ago, the face of a Harry Potter that had been able, and more than willing, to kill…

"Albus Dumbledore is weak… that's why I will eventually become the victor, even if it takes a hundred years." Voldemort said with a raspy sneer. "You share that weakness… emotion… courage… kindness… they make you soft, and unable to do what needs to be done."

Harry slowly lowered his wand. He had known since the end of his fifth year that it would end this way, either as a murderer or a victim. He was willing to come for the sake of his friends, right into the depths of Voldemort's stronghold, where his power was greatest, surrendering that advantage willingly, knowing that it would likely mean his death.

"Even if I do not kill you… now anyone can." Harry remarked with a triumphant grin. "That harmless, nonsense spell I cast? I intentionally masked the words. I actually struck you with a Binding enchantment. Once this newest body of yours is broken, that's it. You'll just be a worthless wisp of a spirit, unable to hurt anyone or anything. You'll never be feared again… only pitied. How fitting would that be; the great Lord He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named… nothing more than a wisp of nothing on a stale breeze for eternity…"

"Silence!" The reptilian looking Dark Wizard bellowed, "I'll kill you first, Potter!"

"I planned on that." Harry said with a shrug. "The prophesy that you so desperately wanted to hear told me that neither of us could live while the other survives. But, you see, Tom Riddle, I agree with Dumbledore, there are things worse than death. You're doomed to one of those things… to be forgotten…"

In a burst of rage, Voldemort prepared to cast the spell that would kill Harry in short order, however, he was interrupted when a stone panel to his left slowly slid open. Both Harry and Voldemort turned their attention as four figures emerged from the secret hall.

"Oh, dear me…" Dumbledore said, "It appears we have taken a wrong turn…"

All of Harry's self-sacrificing plans went out the window. Right behind Dumbledore were Hermione and Ron, who Harry had asked the Headmaster to find and lead to safety. Their robes were in tatters, and Hermione had the spastic tick of a person subjugated to far too many Crucius curses than could possibly be healthy. Ron had the deep red color of freshly dried blood clinging to his ears, nose and mouth.

That might not have been bad enough to send Harry over the edge, but the final figure served to do it. Neville Longbottom was slung between Ron and Hermione, being drug along limply. There was no doubt in his mind… he could just tell that Neville was no longer among the living. Yet another member of the Longbottom family was destroyed by Voldemort…

… and Harry promised himself that Neville would be the last.

Bellatrix LeStrange once told Harry that in order for one of the Unforgivable Curses to work the wizard or witch casting it had to really mean it. And Harry meant with every fiber of his soul to kill Voldemort… once and for all…

"_Avada__ Cadavera!_" The green bolt of energy ripped from the tip of Harry's wand, striking Voldemort before the Dark Wizard even knew what hit him. Voldemort was lifted off the ground from the force of the spell, and thrown into the wall behind him, slumping to the floor like a wet rag.

Harry knew that it would take more than that to kill Voldemort, which was why he had sent another Killing curse before Voldemort could even reach his feet. This one struck the Dark Wizard in the face, causing his head to recoil and smack heavily against the wall.

Harry began to approach the fallen wizard, every three steps firing another Killing curse into his fallen opponent. Rather than his rage dissipating with each spell, it was actually building as Harry remembered those close to him that fell in fighting Voldemort. His mother… his father… Cedric Diggory… Sirius… and now Neville, the one person out of everyone present who most deserved happiness and a full life.

Harry was now straddling over the lifeless husk of Lord Voldemort, and fired seven more Killing curses before he felt a hand on his shoulder, and Hermione's voice pleading with him, "Harry! Harry! Stop! That's enough! Please stop!"

Harry wrenched his arm away, and muttered. "No, not quite yet… it will never be enough… Never!"

Harry raised his wand one last time, and as he spoke, he no longer cared if Voldemort could still hear him or not. "I've changed my mind, Tom Riddle, I've decided you need to leave this world, and never come back. _Expello__ Abeo_!"

Harry jerked out of his bed, panting heavily with sweat pouring off his forehead and dripping off his chin. His hand instantly went up to his scar in anticipation of the flaring pain that generally accompanied dreams of Voldemort… but there was none, not even the tingle he felt when near Troy Ailona.

Harry rubbed his forehead absentmindedly, as if that would clear the images from his memory. He hadn't had that dream in almost a year, and had actually begun to think he had come to grips with what he had done.

He had convinced himself it had been necessary, and maybe it had been. But deep down, he knew that part of it wasn't necessary. Emotion was a double-edged sword; it can reinforce the kindest of hearts, fueling them against any adversary… but it can also warp a person to perform acts that they normally would never dream themselves capable of. Looking back, he did not like what he had become in those few short minutes while he killed Voldemort, and he also recognized how similar his actions must have appeared to Hermione earlier. With a sigh, he realized he would have to apologize to her. He just wished she made a little more sense at times… telling him that he needed to inform Dumbledore about his scar… then telling him _not_ to investigate further when it appeared Dumbledore was not concerned…

He lowered his head back onto the pillow, but sleep did not seem to be as easily attained as it had been earlier in the night. With a sigh, he climbed out of his bed, and threw on a light robe before deciding to take a walk to clear his head.

Harry had been out in the halls of Hogwarts in the dead of night several times before, but old habits died hard, as he began to wonder where he had put his invisibility cloak before he reminded himself that he didn't need it. With a roll of his eyes, Harry Potter stepped outside his dormitory, closed the door quietly, and turned west.

He remembered some of the various nighttime excursions he had taken along many of these same halls as a student, and how it was different to wandering them as a professor, where it was doubtful he'd get in much, if any, trouble for being up and about. Needless to say, the same thrill wasn't exactly present this time around. Perhaps that was a good thing… too much excitement, Harry had learned, was rather bad for his health, and others for that matter.

That's when a pair of terrified screams rung through the hall, coming from the exterior school grounds. Harry instinctively dashed at full speed towards the nearest exit he knew of, about 30 meters down the hall then burst outside into the night.

What he saw stunned him with disbelief, but at the same time didn't surprise him. Two students that he couldn't identify due to darkness and distance were laying lifeless on the ground, while a familiar figure in a trenchcoat that almost perfectly blended with the nighttime sky stood over them, slightly hunched over. Had Harry not already been sure of the man's identity, the increasingly familiar tingle in his scar would have been proof enough.

If Troy knew Harry was there, the caretaker didn't show it, suddenly bolting off with inhuman speed to the south beyond Harry's sight. A part of Harry wanted to follow, but his concern for the obviously injured students took precedent. By the time he had reached the pair, sixth years from Ravenclaw, if he remembered correctly, he heard the first sounds of help arriving.

"Harry, are the students all right?" Dumbledore asked, flanked by McGonagall and Snape on his right, and Flitwick and Hermione on his left.

Snape answered instead. "It appears they were bitten by a vampire."

"A vampire? Here? Impossible." McGonagall disputed.

"Actually, Minerva, he's right." Harry corrected. "You can see the bite marks on their necks right here." He pointed to the small wound marks for effect. "The bites aren't very deep, more likely the vampire was just trying to stun them so that it could take them to wherever its lair is to feed more thoroughly."

"We must get them to Madam Pomfrey immediately." Dumbledore ordered. "Hermione, help Harry take them to the infirmary, and Flitwick, inform Madam Pomfrey that she will need to begin mixing vampire anti-venom immediately, if she does not have some prepared already."

"Albus…" Harry interrupted. "Troy was here before I was… I caught him standing over the students before he ran off."

"Then I suspect the creature responsible for this heinous attack will not survive the night." The headmaster replied dismissively; far too dismissively for Harry's tastes. "You must hurry and take these students to Madam Pomfrey. If this vampire was particularly powerful, we may not have much time to supply the antidote."

Harry reluctantly admitted the truth to that order, and thus took the heavier boy onto his shoulders while Hermione with Flitwick's help, took the girl before the Charms professor took off at a full run into the school. As they began to leave, Harry heard Snape declare, "Dumbledore, we need to talk… immediately."

"Very well, Severus. Minerva, meet us in my office in five minutes."

Harry didn't hear anything else as he had moved beyond his range of hearing. The short trip to Madam Pomfrey's infirmary seemed to take far longer than it should have, and Harry somewhat shamefully admitted to himself that the student's safety was not the primary thing on his mind. How he wanted to be part of that meeting that would no doubt be starting any moment now.

He reminded himself to apologize to Madam Pomfrey for what must have appeared to be a very rude and swift departure after depositing his burden on one of the beds before the school nurse even had a chance to tell him where the student should be put. Nonetheless, he began to run through the darkened halls towards his destination.

If he recalled correctly, there was a portrait of one of the former headmasters that hung in Dumbledore's office that had a similar portrait in one of the corners of the Gryffindor Common Room. If he was correct, he might be able to be present at Dumbledore's meeting after all.

The Fat Lady recognized him, but might have let him through even had he not known the password for entry. The Common Room was almost crammed with a mess of students from varying years, no doubt awoken by the screams from outside, while the Prefects struggled to maintain control of the increasingly panicked children.

Fortunately, Harry's presence instantly calmed the massive congregation. "Professor Potter? What happened? Is everything all right?"

"Everything is fine." Harry called out over the slightly dampened din. "There was an accident involving a pair of Ravenclaw students who were not in bed like they were supposed to. Everything is under control, and you can all go to bed safely."

"But we can't possibly…" A voice called from the back.

"That is not a request." Harry replied sternly. "In order to avoid any more panic, students need to return to their beds."

With reluctant respect to the older man, the students began slowly filtering up to their dorms. Harry watched the mass retreat impatiently, knowing each second was one second of lost time he wouldn't regain. Finally, the common room was empty, and Harry moved to portrait he had targeted. Pulling a chair in front of it, he sat down, raised his wand, and prepared to cast his spell when a gentle tug on his robe nearly caused him to scream himself.

Harry whirled about accusingly, and saw Julie Fitzsimmons standing with a nervous look on her face. "Are you sure everything is all right?"

"Yes, Julie!" Harry snapped, "Now get to sleep!"

He might as well have slapped the girl. She took two steps back, her eyes wide in hurt. "O… okay…" Julie stammered, tears starting to form along her eyelids. "Good… goodnight, Professor Potter…"

Harry sighed in disgust with himself as Julie dashed up the steps. He had to add Julie's name to the list of people he owed an apology now. Nevertheless, now was not the time for apologies. Now was the time to figure out just what was going on. He focused on the portrait in front of him, currently empty, but irrelevant to the spell he was about to cast. His Auror training taught him of a method in which he could follow the path of a magical portrait, allowing his senses to travel to any destination the denizen of the portrait could go; in this case, Dumbledore's office…

"_Pathium__ Intello_!" Harry chanted then his vision temporarily faded to blackness. When next he saw light, it was the brightly lit domed chamber of Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore was in his chair, with McGonagall and Snape sitting across the desk. It appeared to Harry's frustration that the meeting had already been well on its way.

"Now, you see what I told you. I told you that inviting Potter to teach here would put the students at unnecessary risk." Snape growled. "I can guarantee you why that vampire was here. It was here because of Potter!"

"There is no evidence of that." McGonagall retorted. "There are a great number of vampires…"

"But only one Vampire Lord who just happens to have come to Britain, looking for Potter! Now, suddenly, a vampire appears on the grounds for the first time in twenty-seven years? That is plenty enough evidence for me. You should never have brought Potter here!"

"It was done for Potter's safety…"

"Potter is a grown man now, Dumbledore. He can handle himself."

Harry could hardly believe that he was actually beginning to side with Snape. What was the world coming to?

"Severus, I'm actually inclined to agree with you." Dumbledore replied. "However, had the two students been inside the school when they were supposed to be, they would not have been attacked. The exterior grounds are always dangerous at night. That is just as true now as it always has been. Do not blame Harry for the unfortunate misbehaving of a couple love-struck students. This has all been carefully planned. Harry is here because he is a perfect fit for his position, and it forces our unseen enemy to come to us."

"I also don't like that… monster here. He could have just as easily been the one to attack the students, and he _is_ inside the school every night."

"You know just as well as I do that Troy was not responsible for the attacks." Dumbledore scowled, showing a small degree of anger that he so rarely displayed.

"That may be… but there's going to be a point where he will be hungry, and he's going to feed… and it might not be when you expect, regardless of what you say."

Dumbledore suddenly went rigid, his gaze slowly turning to the portrait where Harry was lingering. "Hold one moment, Severus. I think we might have an uninvited guest."

Harry quickly retreated to his physical form, somewhat upset that Dumbledore had located him, and knowing the Headmaster, also would quickly figure Harry was behind it. Nonetheless, he now knew for certain that Dumbledore was hiding something, unfortunately it created more questions than it did answers.

He sprinted back to the infirmary, and in another display of rudeness that he would have to apologize to Madam Pomfrey for, grabbed Hermione by the shoulder as she passed him and pulled her out into the hall.

"Harry!" She began chidingly, "Where have you…"

He cut her off with a finger to her lips. "Listen to me like you've never listened to me before. I knew there was something off about Troy Ailona, and listening to Dumbledore and Snape talking about it… I think our caretaker is a vampire."

Troy's behavior over the next week only reinforced that opinion in Harry's mind. He never saw the caretaker outside during the day, nor did Troy ever seem to eat at mealtimes. Of course, Hermione had correctly pointed out that Filch hadn't exactly been in the practice of dining with the students and professors either. Nonetheless, Harry combined that with everything else he had seen to form a pretty damning opinion in his mind. He was certain that Troy was a vampire, now it was all a matter of proving it.

Unfortunately, it appeared that Mr. Ailona had learned that he triggered Harry's scar, likely from Dumbledore, and was intentionally keeping his distance. Which was unfortunate, because Harry had some things he wanted to test.

Finally he got his chance during a late evening professor's meeting, and it had come so unexpectedly that he almost didn't catch it until it was too late. Harry had been so engrossed in reporting his progress that he didn't acknowledge that his scar was tingling until Troy appeared in the doorway of the conference room.

"Sun's setting." Troy said simply, pointing west. "I'll be starting my rounds now. I'll be sure to inform you if I find anymore of our vampiric friends roaming about."

Dumbledore nodded, "Very well… thank you, Mr. Ailona."

Troy disappeared around the corner again, and Harry quickly jerked. "Mr. Ailona! Wait one moment." He hopped out of his seat, Hermione following nary a second later out of curiosity. She watched in disbelief as Harry pulled a large clove of garlic out of his pocket, and quickly chewed it vigorously before he emerged into the hall where Troy was waiting, the caretaker's eyebrows raised questioningly just above his sunglasses.

Harry grinned slyly, and said, "I just wanted to ask you something."

Troy's eyebrows narrowed suspiciously, and replied, "That being…"

Harry was soon less than a foot from Troy, and took a deep breath. "I want to know what you think of this…" Then Harry exhaled deeply into the caretaker's face.

Troy took a step back, grimacing, but was not reacting at all like Harry had expected. Troy coughed twice, pulled off his sunglasses for a brief moment to wipe his eyes then managed to mutter, "I think you need to brush your teeth tonight. That breath would make a dragon color in envy."

Harry gaped as Troy recomposed himself, and straightened his trench coat. "If that is all you had to ask, I'll be going now. Good day, professors."

The caretaker took a few steps then stopped suddenly. Without turning back, he said with a smirk, "By the way, garlic has been so overused as a weapon against vampires that most of their kin are immune to it by now."

When the itch in Harry scar finally faded to nothing, he commented to Hermione, "He's taunting me."

Hermione nodded, "Are you absolutely positive you're going to keeping digging into this?"

"Yes." Harry answered with all the determination he could muster. "I'm sick of being treated like a child, and if Dumbledore is not going to answer my questions, I'm going to find them out myself."

"Not alone, you aren't." Hermione said. "I already told you that I'd help you if I felt it necessary." She then grinned in teasing, "Besides, someone has to be there to pull you back when you inevitably cross the line."

"Thanks, Herms. It's good to know I can count on at least one person in this school."

Hermione then grew serious. "Good, because I think you need to sort out just what you're trying to find out. At first, you thought that Troy was somehow associated with Voldemort. Now you think he's a vampire… which is it?"

"Maybe it's both… and maybe it's neither." Harry answered with a shrug. "That's one of the many things that need figuring in this mess."

Unfortunately, he still had duties to perform as a Professor, even if he now knew that he was hired on for more than just his suitability for the job. Because of those obligations, investigating just what those other reasons were would prove to be slow going.

Harry and Hermione had started devoting their free periods to gathering as many clues as they could on their new caretaker. Not surprisingly, there were few. As a matter of fact, there were dismally few. They knew that he had come from America (somewhere), and that he had previous meetings with Dumbledore (at some time), and that he likely wasn't a mere Squib if he could take down a vampire (the decayed remains of it had been found just inside the Forbidden Forest without any signs it had been killed by any traditional means). But he likely wasn't a wizard, either, since both he and Dumbledore had said as much, and the few times either Harry or Hermione had gotten close enough to use the magic detecting tools Harry had gathered as an Auror, they got nothing.

"But all that could mean is that his magic isn't of the type normal wizards have. For example, your sneakascope detects enchantments and charms, but it wouldn't detect inherent magical abilities. Firenze, for example, wouldn't show up on a sneakascope at all." Hermione noted one day. "So, what exactly are we supposed to accomplish by finding out just who, or what, Troy is, anyway?"

"Because we need to find out if he really is a danger to this school, and if he is, just how much of a danger. I'm much more worried about a potential vampire inside this school than the one dead one outside it."

Unfortunately, there would prove to be more than one…

The school was abuzz the first Monday of October with the news that another vampire had appeared outside the school. It made the foolish mistake of trying to attack Hagrid when the gameskeeper was returning from one of his forays into the Forgotten Forest. Hagrid had sufficiently battered the creature for Dumbledore to do the rest, but nonetheless, it marked a change from isolated incident, to a repeat threat.

"Are we going to learn how to defend ourselves from vampires?" Fredrick asked Harry as the chimes marked the start of the class period.

"You can't even defend yourself from a newt… how do you expect to fight of a vampire, Freddy?" Norrell sneered, putting intentional stress on Fredrick's nickname.

"Well, I suppose I can understand why it wouldn't bother you…" Fredrick shot back. "A vampire wouldn't get close to you due to your smell."

"That's enough!" Harry shouted sternly before the spat could escalate. "Ten points from Gryffindor and Slytherin." Calming himself, he then explained, "For your information, Mr. Cole, we are not going to be learning about vampires. I'm afraid to say that's a topic a little beyond this class's learning at this point. Just stay inside the school after dusk, like you are supposed to, and you will be perfectly fine." As he said that, he hoped with all his heart that was actually true.

The rest of the class did not go smoothly, as the students were understandably distracted, and not at all interested in where to strike a target from the Stunning curse to have optimal effect when just last night a vampire had been roaming about less than two hundred meters away. When the chimes rang to signify the end of class, it was almost a blessing. However, there was one thing he wanted to do before everyone left.

"Miss Fitzsimmons!" Harry called out as the students were packing away their books and notes. "May I see you before you leave today?"

She dutifully approached the desk, and Harry waited until the room was otherwise empty. Julie had been quite forgiving of Harry's outburst roughly a month ago, coming to conclusion that it had been an understandably stressful moment after the first vampire attack, and that he had been sick with worry about the students. He decided it was best for her, and her opinion of him, to believe that.

"I hear that Madam Hooch suggested you get an individual tutor for flying." Harry said. "She thinks you're a natural."

Julie nodded. "I want to play Quiddich next year, but Madam Hooch doesn't have the time to help me, and the house team is busy with practice for the season."

"Well, I was a pretty good seeker in my day." Harry suggested.

Julie's face lit up in joy. "Would you…?"

"I would love to help you, Julie. How about after the evening meal, we can start?"

She nodded vigorously, too excited to speak with any confidence in her voice.

Harry smiled, and said, "Well, I think you should be getting on to your next class. Don't want to be late, now."

Julie nodded, made an awkward curtsey of sorts, and then jogged off into the hall. Harry gave a light chuckle then gathered up the homework assignments on his desk. As he prepared to meet Hermione in the library, Dumbledore appeared in the entry to his classroom.

"Harry, in light of the recent vampire attack, the Ministry of Magic has seen fit to send an Auror to help investigate the matter." Dumbledore said casually, but something about his eyes suggested he was not keen on the decision. "I was wondering if you could meet the newcomer by the dockside and escort him to my office."

Harry did not like the idea of having what little investigating time he did have interrupted, but knew better than to decline any task the Headmaster gave him. Besides, Harry eventually decided another Auror on the grounds could be quite helpful in his investigations.

That is… until he saw who the Auror the Ministry selected was.

"So, Potter… once again, trouble seems to follow you like a lovesick black dog." The Auror said with a light-hearted, yet still venomous, voice

Harry was so incensed he couldn't even offer proper greetings, instead only able to grate out, "Draco Malfoy… fancy seeing you here…"


	3. Things Long Overdue

**Chapter Three: Things long Overdue**

Harry was wondering just what was taking Julie so long. The evening meal should be winding down about now, and so Harry decided to step back inside to find out if she had forgotten (although she hadn't forgotten a single lesson in the month and a half she had been taking them), or at least discover what the delay was about.

Unfortunately, the broom closet in which Madam Hooch kept the school brooms was completely on the other side of the grounds from the South Courtyard in which Julie and Harry practiced in (He had decided on there even though the South Courtyard was considerably smaller… because it didn't have a Whomping Willow). Thus it took him a lot longer than he would have liked to cross the distance.

As he progressed, he happened to sense from his scar that Troy Ailona was approaching, and rapidly. As much as he would have liked to tail the suspected vampire, especially since dusk set quickly this time of year, he was determined to give Julie his priority.

He finally found her, being accosted by Draco Malfoy.

Harry had demanded to know why Malfoy, of all the Aurors working in the Ministry of Magic, was selected to investigate, and all he could glean was that it was an order that came from the highest ranks in the division, and possibly even higher. Malfoy had been a bully and general slime while a student, and now that he had returned, it didn't appear much had changed.

He had taken the broom that Julie had been given, and said nastily. "I wasn't aware that the rule forbidding first-years to own brooms had changed."

"It's not mine!" Julie hissed, quite contrary to the shyness he had come to expect from the girl. Living with the other Gryffindor students was beginning to have an effect on her. "It's Madam Hooch's!"

"So you stole it from her…" Draco intentionally misled. "That could get you expelled."

"I didn't steal anything, you git. Madam Hooch…"

"Disrespecting an Auror now?" Draco said with a smug grin. "I think some detention is in order… and I think you can forget about your flying lessons until you learn to treat your elders with the proper respect." Draco started to flip the broom onto his shoulder, when a firm grip grasped the top of the handle, preventing further movement.

Harry had been so irate, and prepared to intervene on his own; that he hadn't even realized that Troy had stopped right behind Draco, moving so silently that the Auror hadn't even suspected anyone had approached. "Let go… now…" The caretaker ordered sternly, and in his surprise, Draco complied.

Troy reached around Draco, and held out the broom for Julie to take. "Here, Miss Fitzsimmons, enjoy your lesson."

Julie took the broom happily, and skipped off again down the hall. Harry grabbed her as she passed by, and pulled her to the side, silently gesturing for her to be quiet so that he could hear as Troy spoke again.

"I wonder how tough you'd be trying to pick on someone your own size." Troy said flatly.

Showing none of the respect he had just preached about for the caretaker, Draco didn't even turn around as he spitefully queried. "You mean… someone like you?"

Troy lunged so quickly, slamming Draco face first into the wall that it seemed to happen without any movement. "Yeah… someone _exactly_ like me, in fact." The caretaker then intercepted Draco's right hand as it drifted towards his wand pocket, and twisted Malfoy's wrist in a manner that could not have been pleasant. Draco yelped painfully as he tried to escape Troy's grasp, only causing his joints to torque at an increasingly unnatural angle.

"You will stop harassing the students in this school, and you will start doing the job you were sent here to do. Do we have an understanding?" Troy said calmly.

"I don't answer to you." Draco huffed.

"Disrespecting the caretaker now?" Troy mocked with Draco's taunting voice inflection. "I think some pain is in order…" Troy then wrenched Draco's wrist almost a full one-hundred and eighty degrees, causing the Auror to squeal like he was being stabbed repeatedly with a dull knife. Harry pleasingly noted that no one was exactly rushing to Malfoy's aid, even though the entire wing would have had to have heard him. "Once more… do we have an understanding?"

"Yes! Yes! All right!" Draco howled then staggered a few steps after Troy abruptly released him, clutching his wrist. "Damn it…" Draco sneered, his features contorting in anger as Troy began to leave. With his left hand, Draco reached into his pocket, pulled out his wand, and raised it above his head with all the grandeur his wounded pride could muster…

"Going to hex our caretaker now?" Harry quipped, stepping out from around the corner. Malfoy froze, clearly not expecting any witnesses. "Oh, please, don't let me stop you. I'd love to be the one who stamps the crate sending you back to London."

With an angry growl that did nothing to mask his humiliation, Draco slammed his wand back in his pocket then walked back towards the Slytherin section of the school with as much speed as he could muster without jogging, the emerald pendant Harry noticed earlier casting a soft green glow as Draco jogged into the progressively darker hall.

"You should have let him curse me." Troy said blandly.

Harry rubbed the back of his head. "He is an Auror, and knows quite a few nasty Dark Arts, I'd wager. I wasn't sure just what he was going to do."

Troy scoffed, unimpressed. "I guess we'll never know now. Have a good evening, Professor Potter." Troy disappeared down the hall as Harry reluctantly admitted that in one regard, having Malfoy around, as annoying as he could be, would be a boon, especially if what Harry feared of Troy was true.

Two mornings later, Harry had taken some of his fifth-year students to the school exterior. He wanted them to practice the various concussive class spells they had been reading on the last few class periods… spells that could do a good deal of damage in an enclosed area like the Great Hall or the South Courtyard.

He had set up a long series of training dummies for the target practice pointing out to the water, but as he tried to get their attention he noticed that one topic of conversation was still dominating.

"Gregory Croshere told me that there's likely a vampire enclave somewhere in the area, and that's why there are so many vampires here now." One of the Hufflepuff students, Michelle Trowley, said slightly above a whisper.

"There's been all of two." One of the more disbelieving Ravenclaw students, Ryan Turntop said with a roll of his eyes.

"They say that vampires are like cockroaches." Still another Ravenclaw, Darrin Fredsue, retorted. "For every one you see, there's about ten or twenty you don't."

"That's if there is a Vampire Lord in control." Turntop replied. "Any other time, vampires are solitary creatures."

"But what are the chances of two solitary vampires showing up in roughly two months… especially since I've heard there haven't been any vampires here for almost thirty years?" Michelle asked.

"Darn near zero, if you ask me." Darrin answered.

"But hardly impossible." Ryan added, equally adamant.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, while I am glad to know that you have retained your knowledge of vampires and vampiric lore, I am afraid to say that is not why we're out here today." Harry said with a slightly raised voice. At that moment, he began to feel his scar tingle, likely from Troy's presence, possibly walking along the interior hall nearby.

"Besides, I suspect you have very little to worry about concerning vampires at this point in time." A slightly humored voice from the castle drawled. Troy was leaning against the entry to the east wing, bathed perfectly in the shadow being cast by the castle.

Harry smiled smugly, and replied, "Yes… because even Muggles are aware of the fact that vampires cannot stand underneath the unblocked sun."

Troy nodded, "Some of the more scientifically inclined among the wizarding world believe that the ultra-violet radiation from the sun causes a chemical reaction in a vampire's undead flesh." Then with one hesitant glance at the sky, Troy stepped out into the sunlight, walking towards Harry. With each step, Harry could barely believe what he was seeing, and thus didn't fully register that Troy had stopped right in front of him.

"Good thing for the vampires there aren't any around right now, is it?" Troy asked smugly.

"Yes…" Harry replied dumbly, awestruck. He had been utterly certain… but there was no way that Troy could be standing where he was… unless there was some sort of protective charm or artifact that he wasn't aware of. But even then, a vampire couldn't be enchanted by almost anything simply because the inherent magic that kept them alive interfered with most other magic.

Troy looked like he was about to return to the castle when his head jerked suddenly towards the docks towards the southwest. There was a loud, angry, inhuman roar, then the heavy thudding of what sounded like hoofbeats.

"That sounds like a…" Harry began, but the bull headed creature with a vaguely human torso and four long, powerful bull legs that suddenly burst around the castle exterior finished his sentence for him. The minotaur paused for a second, and the instant it caught sight of Harry began charging once more.

Harry prepared his wand to meet the attack, but the instant the students panicked, Harry's concentration was immediately broken as the students frequently ran into his path of vision, and potentially into the minotaur's deadly path.

Fortunately, he was not the only person on the grounds to keep his head, although at first it didn't seem that way. Troy also burst into a run, but directly at the bullish creature. Before Harry could even finish, "Are you barking mad?" the two collided with tremendous force. The impact sent Troy's sunglasses flying, and the caretaker yelped painfully, overpowered by the gigantic bull-man, and pushed back steadily.

Troy was rather large and built for the average human, but the Minotaur dwarfed him by at least twice. Figuring that Troy was only trying to slow down the creature to allow the class to evacuate, Harry tried to restore order as quickly as possible so that he could help the caretaker's efforts. That turned out not to be the case.

After about 5 meters, Troy completely halted the minotaur's push, locking his arms around the beast's horns. Amazed simply by that display of untold strength, Harry would prove to be even more awestruck as Troy then hefted the bull-man completely off the ground, slamming the minotaur back to the ground in a earth-shaking suplex, then quickly switching his hold while the monster was stunned, so that his arms were wrapped around the minotaur's neck, his feet locked around one of the bull-man's arms to prevent it from getting enough leverage to rise off the ground.

Troy's eyes were clenched tightly in what Harry assumed to be exertion, the caretaker's arms tightening steadily around the beast's neck. The minotaur's eyes began to bulge then rolled into the back of its head as there was a sickening pop. Its head went limp, as if connected to the rest of its body by nothing more than skin and muscle. It took nary a moment longer for Harry to realize that Troy had broken its neck.

"What in Merlin's name happened here?" Draco Malfoy asked, as if magically appearing on the grounds, quickly followed by several other professors, including the centaur Firenze. Harry filed in the back of his mind at how quickly the Auror amazing seemed to be nearby as the sudden attack happened. "A minotaur? Who would be stupid enough to have one of those things on school grounds?"

As much as he despised Malfoy, Harry knew what Draco was leading to, and couldn't totally argue. Hagrid had been known to take several dangerous creatures into his care, and a minotaur definitely would fit that description. It certainly was not beyond the realm of possibility at least.

"Does anyone see my sunglasses?" Troy asked somewhat loudly. His eyes were still clenched shut, his hands feeling blindly along the ground. As Harry silently wondered what sort of person or creature would need sunglasses during the late October sun, one of the Hufflepuff students dutifully grabbed said article from where they had fallen about three meters from where Troy was hunched over. The student then equally dutifully handed the shades to the caretaker, who put them on and said, "Thank you, Mr. Ponteroy."

Draco rolled his eyes at the interruption, and continued, "I've always known that gameskeeper was going to get over his head, and that somebody would get hurt like I had been."

Harry couldn't totally fight back a sanctimonious scoff. Draco had been slightly injured after repeatedly taunting a Hippogriff in their third year, then tried to pin the blame on Hagrid's care, with some success.

"Well, that's it. I'm informing the Ministry of this, and recommending that half-breed madman be removed from his duties once and for all."

"That would be all well and good, Mr. Malfoy, if Hagrid was responsible in any way for this Minotaur being here." Troy interrupted, examining his kill carefully.

Draco huffed, insulted that someone would challenge his accusations. "Who else would be responsible? How do you know the half-giant isn't the source of this beast?"

Troy turned his head to Malfoy, and began counting off reasons. "Firstly, the centaurs in the forest would not tolerate a minotaur anywhere in the vicinity. Is that not right, Professor Firenze?"

Harry turned his gaze to the centaur, who was rather regarding the bull-creature with a great deal of disdain. "I would certainly not have associated with such a brute, and I would have also known had Hagrid been keeping one. The other centaurs would also have known, and had it killed within two nights."

"Secondly," Troy continued, pointing over to where the monster had appeared. "The minotaur came from the southwest, near the docks, not from the gameskeeper's pens, which are to the east. You can also see the fresh rub marks from the cage it came in. This animal was just delivered."

"Then Hagrid recently acquired the creature then." Draco suggested.

"Not with the school's galleons, he didn't." Troy countered. "I would have to approve such a sale, and I can guarantee you that Hagrid doesn't have the personal funds to make such a purchase."

"I never said anything about purchasing." Draco sneered. "Hagrid has garnered such dangerous beasts without paying as much as a knute."

Harry's mind reeled back to Hagrid winning a dragon egg from a heavily cloaked man in his first year. He instantly began to wonder how much Draco knew about that incident.

Troy then argued, "Which brings me to my third point; this Minotaur has a pen brand on its shoulder. If I know this mark correctly, this monster came from the Grumatony Estate, a prominent Italian wizard family. As a rule, the Grumatony's have rather archaic ideas about proper bloodlines. They would not have sullied themselves catering to a half-blood… it would be an insult to their station."

"But I suspect they would have very little issue selling to a Malfoy…" Harry retorted.

Before Draco could respond to the less than subtle implication, Troy had continued, "Fourth, this creature clearly had been trained to find and attack Professor Potter by the behavior it displayed. Why would Hagrid have done such a thing, even if he had the knowledge to do so?"

Draco turned sternly towards Troy, and muttered bitterly, "You appear to have pretty good eyes for a caretaker."

Nonplussed, Troy shot back indifferently, "And you appear to have pretty poor ones for an Auror." Troy stood again, straightened his clothing then said, "I am going to report this recent development to the headmaster. You may come along if you wish to relate your observations as well, Mr. Malfoy."

"That… won't be necessary, I don't think." Malfoy said with a sneer, tromping off seconds later.

"Professor Potter, I trust you can arrange for Hagrid to dispose of our guest in a proper and timely manner?" Troy asked, but in a way that didn't seem as so much of a request.

Dumbly, Harry nodded then said, "I suspect I won't get much teaching done at this moment in time… might as well do something useful."

"Thank you." Troy said in parting, clearly not wasting any time getting out of the open sun... even if it wasn't turning him to stone. Harry shook his head, trying to clear it. Intrigue had once again swirled around him to the point where he wasn't sure if he was surrounded by friends, or under siege by several different foes.

Naturally, he sought out the only friend he knew he had. Unfortunately, they both had classes to teach until the evening meal, and he didn't feel comfortable discussing his concerns about the events swirling him with Dumbledore merely three chairs away.

Finally, he was able to get some relative privacy with Hermione to go over his version of the events of the day. Hermione gave him a sympathetic hug, and said softly, "I am so sorry, Harry. If anyone deserved any semblance of peace after all that's happened, it's you."

Most times, Harry was rather amused by Hermione's physically affectionate nature. However, right now, in the middle of the library, too many young gossip-hungry students would get the wrong idea. As it was, a group of girls were glancing back at the two professors, and giggling knowingly.

He gently pried himself away, and Hermione used the break to delve further into the myriad of problems surrounding his newest stay at the school. "So, we are rather certain that someone is trying to do you in once again."

"That minotaur certainly wasn't charging to shake my hand, if that's what you're asking." Harry said with a slightly patronizing tone. "But I can't help but think this is somehow related to all the other attacks that have happened."

"But the vampires didn't attack you…"

"I know… but I can't shake the feeling that they're tied together somehow."

Harry suddenly noticed Julie step into the library, her eyes scanning around, and he instinctively knew that she was looking for him. He quietly cut Hermione off from whatever she was about to say then pointed discreetly towards Julie as the first-year approached their table.

"Professor Potter… um… I was wondering…" Julie began nervously, "If we could find another time for my lessons… since… it gets so dark so early this time of year…"

Harry had actually been giving it some thought, but nonetheless, he paused dramatically, and rolled his eyes upward as if deeply considering the matter.

Hermione sighed, and clearly did not share Harry's humor. "I suspect if you don't dawdle during the lunch period, that you could probably squeeze a half hour or so in for flying."

Harry was partly miffed at Hermione for ruining his fun, but also partly amazed that she was able to discuss flying lessons without shuddering. He still couldn't understand why his old friend despised flying so much… she wasn't afraid of heights, and her bravery was unquestioned. It was something that even Hermione didn't seem terribly certain as to why… she just didn't like it, and no further discussion would be welcomed.

Julie smiled confidently, "We can do that. My friends will certainly understand. They want Gryffindor's next seeker to be ready as much as I do."

"So, you plan to be a seeker, is that right?" Harry said casually. "Well then, I do believe we're going to need a slightly bigger practicing ground than the South Courtyard from now on. I'll talk to Madam Hooch, and I'll see what I can do for next week."

"That would be great!" The girl chirped, dashing out of the library as fast as she could manage.

"Energetic young lady, isn't she?" Hermione observed.

"Gryffindor has done wonders for her." Harry acknowledged.

"Well, let's just hope she doesn't have to kill a basilisk before she finishes her second year…"

Harry chuckled modestly, and replied, "She's smart enough not to put herself in that sort of situation. I just said I saw a little of myself in her… not all of me."

"That's good. One Harry Potter in this world is one too many for my own health."

Harry playfully slapped her on the back of the head, and he heard the giggles from the students behind him suddenly go silent, before starting to mutter conspiratorially amongst themselves. Harry almost began laughing as the rumors that he beats his girlfriends would no doubt start circulating within days.

Surprisingly enough, all things were quiet on the gossip front, or at least, as far as Harry could tell. October yielded to November, and the snows began to arrive and compile in earnest. Nonetheless, every Tuesday and Thursday, Julie would approach the professor's table, tell Harry she was ready then he would send her to retrieve their brooms, and wait for him at the castle exit.

This mid-November Tuesday was no different.

"Professor Potter?" Julie asked politely, so as not to sound boorish while interrupting. "I am ready whenever you are."

"You got enough to eat?" Harry asked, noting that they were only 15 minutes into the normally hour long lunch period.

Julie nodded. "Yes sir. I even had seconds."

Harry intentionally ignored whatever sour comment Snape made on the other side of the table, and then asked, "Make sure you're bundled up nice and warm. I suspect you know the drill by now."

Julie hopped down the slightly raised floor that the professor's table resided, and dashed off happily on her set tasks. Harry politely finished off the last bit of his meal, and was about to join her when Flitwick asked, "Professor Potter… if you would be so kind as to drop off your plans regarding concealment charms before you go in my office, I'd appreciate it."

Harry nodded as his tray vanished, apparated into the kitchen, most likely. It was merely a short detour to Flitwick's office in the Hufflepuff Tower, and he had to admit that the sooner the two were able to consolidate plans to teach a section that really crossed both their classes, the better off they both would be.

Thus, he wasn't where he would have been when things blew up… literally.

He was taking the stairs back down the tower when a deafening explosion nearly blew out his eardrums, and knocked several bricks loose from the walls. The sound was so pervasive that he could adequately tell just where it had originated, but somehow he knew it had come from the castle exterior grounds… where he gave Julie his flying lessons.

He dashed down the steps so quickly that on several occasions he came perilously close to tumbling the rest of the way down. Upon hitting the ground floor, he actually did stumble into the far wall, but righted himself with desperate speed before taking off once more.

This time, however, he wasn't even close to being the first one at the scene. By the time he emerged out of the school, he had to quickly pull to a stop before he ran down the back row of a large mass of students. Not that it would have mattered, since he started pushing his way through the mob rather roughly until they got the hint, and started to clear a path for him to pass.

Once he finally broke through the seemingly endless rows of students, little Julie dashed forward, burying her face in his stomach with her hands around his hips, crying so fiercely that she couldn't put two words together.

Fortunately, Hermione was there to explain what apparently had happened. "It appears your broom had been hexed with a powerful Detonation Curse. When Miss Fitzsimmons touched the broom, the curse activated. Madam Hooch… she… took the broom and flew off over the water… I think she tried to jump off… but she didn't quite make it in time…"

Harry's heart leaped into his throat as he followed Hermione's finger to the edge of the land, where several white robed wizards were lifting a badly burned body towards what he identified as a portkey about ten meters away. "She isn't…"

Snape interrupted them, "Not yet. Madam Hooch will definitely be taken to St. Mungo's… but I'm not sure what they can do. The damage from both the explosion, and her impact with the water, was severe."

With that, the Slytherin House head turned nasty, saying, "Congratulations Potter, another victim of your popularity. I wonder how many more people are going to wind up on the brink of mortal peril due to attacks meant for you…"

From behind him, Troy's voice said with equal venom, "That is quite enough out of you, Severus." Harry blinked repeatedly as he hadn't even noticed through all the panic and fear that his scar was indeed itching.

"Yes… I suppose I shouldn't blame Potter…" Severus glared maliciously, "After all, I understand that was why you were brought here, 'Mr. Caretaker'; to prevent exactly this sort of thing from happening…"

Snape's words were cut off with a choked gurgle as Troy's left hand shot forward like a viper, snatching Snape by the throat. The older professor's eyes bulged in a mixture of surprise and alarm as Troy said, "I suggest you take greater care as to who you to try to antagonize. I will not tolerate it. Now, why don't you do something useful for a change, and help Professor McGonagall restore order in this school? Some of your house students are as it stands taking advantage of the unexpected break to try and sabotage the Gryffindor Quiddich equipment. Perhaps you should inform them doing so would likely result in expulsion considering the current events."

Snape nodded, and was instantly released from Troy's grip. With a subtle squaring of his shoulders, Snape moved with a flourish back inside the school as if he had meant to do that all along.

Troy's voice was considerably mellower when he addressed Harry, but it still sounded less like a request and more like an order that would not be wise to refuse. "Potter, follow me."

He began to walk away, and Harry locked into step a couple strides behind. The caretaker stopped next to Dumbledore, and pointed to the school. With that same non-negotiable tone, he said darkly to the headmaster, "Albus, we all need to talk… now…"

Dumbledore nodded solemnly, and said back, "I will join you once I confirm that Madam Hooch is situated. Wait for me in my office."

Troy moved towards the school, Harry not even three steps behind. He suspected that the recent attack was going to lead to full disclosure of the secrecy surrounding him, although he was rather certain the price of said disclosure was a little high for his tastes.

"May I be so bold as to join you two?" Hermione challenged just as Harry and Troy were inside the castle.

Troy stopped abruptly, and commented wryly, "Since you would be upon Harry for details like a rabid hyena within seconds of the meeting's conclusion, I suspect it would be prudent for you simply to be present." Without further comment, Troy resumed his pace.

"Just what is this about, exactly?" Harry asked, "Who is trying to harm me?"

"I'd rather you hear it from Albus, to be perfectly honest." Troy answered, "I suspect it will be slightly easier to accept from him than from me."

It took slightly longer than five minutes for Dumbledore to appear in the middle of the office. For the first time since Harry had ever known him… the headmaster simply looked old. His face was grim, and defeated, as if the moment he had been dreading since the start of the year had come at last.

"Perhaps I have an apology to make first." Albus said in regret. "I seem to have forgotten you aren't eleven anymore, Harry. However, I was sure that you would never agree to teach for me had I told you everything."

"Well, you never bothered to find out, did you?" Harry answered darkly.

"Perhaps we should just explain the matter… then we can worry about who wants to yell at whom." Troy interrupted, taking a place leaning against the wall just to the right of the east window.

Dumbledore then replied, "Well, then do begin… since this story appears to start with you."

Troy tilted his head thoughtfully, and said, "Perhaps you are right." His head turned towards Harry and Hermione, and said, "Firstly, as I suspect you both have guessed, I'm not some simple Squib hired on as a caretaker. I am actually a Special Investigator and Covert Operative for the Department of Mystical Forces… the American equivalent to your Aurors in the Ministry of Magic. You could say I'm currently on loan to Albus here."

Harry nodded, as he had met a couple of his American counterparts in his Auror training, which as he understood, called themselves the SICOs with some juvenile amusement.

Hermione opened her mouth, but Troy cut her off by answering her question before she even had the chance to ask it. "It began when I was trailing a Vampire Lord by the name of Barbaras along the Pacific Coast of Oregon. In Mid-June, he suddenly jumped the Atlantic, and fortunately, I was able to glean sufficient information from a straggler I was able to get my hands on."

From the right hip pocket of his trench coat, Troy pulled out a neatly folded piece of white parchment, but not without adding. "I'd hold it a distance away… this little vampire wasn't exactly speaking quietly as it made this confession."

Harry complied, taking the sheet at arms length before slowly unfolding it. Once completely unfurled, the tormenting howling of what probably would have been a rather charming female voice said:

**_Barbaras… he was approached by a man who only called himself… the Disciple of Voldemort. We didn't want to go, but our lord demanded it… I didn't want to follow… but we were to go to England!_**

**_Our lord was not himself… that wizard was controlling him… I am certain of it! Barbaras wouldn't leave the fertile lands here willingly… so many fresh, warm, bloody bodies… IEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! STOP! STOP! It's true, even if you hurt me! Our lord had to have been controlled, his ample will dominated by this man… if he was indeed human… I could sense something odd about him!_**

**_That's all I know! I swear! Please… end my suffering… I am so hungry…_**

The letter promptly cut off, and Harry, somewhat disturbed not just by what was said, but also imagining the means that were likely used to get this unidentified vampire to talk. "That's preposterous." Harry finally commented as he handed the parchment back to Troy. "Even with an Imperius curse, the amount of power needed to dominate the heavily enchanted mind of a Vampire Lord…"

"It seems entirely possible given the circumstances." Troy contended. "For example, that Detonation curse had to have been done from a great distance, likely using some sort of proxy as an antenna for this wizard's power."

Harry frowned. "The only Dark Wizard I can imagine having that sort of power is dead."

Hermione paled. "No… no… no… no…" She began muttering.

"I doubt it is Voldemort, if that's what is worrying you, Miss Granger." Troy said with a sardonic smirk. "Voldemort was too egocentric to ever label himself a "disciple" of anything. His pride wouldn't allow it. Anyway, I informed the Ministry of Magic of what I had discovered then I contacted my old friend Albus. His story picks up from there."

Dumbledore nodded. "Firstly, word from a college of mine in Peru, noted the emergence of one of the last stable giant clans from the Andes. One night, the clan was camped along the foothills bordering Peru from Argentina… the next morning they were gone. There were remnants of a Portkey in the center of the camp."

"Porting an entire giant clan? The sort of energy needed to cast that large of a rift would kill a person!" Hermione gasped.

"I certainly wouldn't hold it beneath someone who labels himself 'The Disciple of Voldemort' to sacrifice several wizards to get the power he needs." Troy remarked.

"And I take it the giants appeared in Britain?"

"As of right now, we do not know." Dumbledore said with a sigh. "However, we did discern from spies watching the giants that they were visited by a wizard who was almost radiating power. The description fit what Troy's… informant gave as to the wizard who visited Barbaras."

Dumbledore tapped his index fingers together, and continued, "It also appears that this wizard is not acting alone. An Auror that you might know Harry, Nathan Thigpen, had mysteriously disappeared in June."

Harry remembered that. He had wanted to be assigned to the investigation, but Alastor had denied him, explaining that there were others more experienced with handling such a delicate case. "I assume they found out what happened?"

"Not… exactly." Dumbledore answered. "They found his robe, his limbs, and his head. The Ministry determined from examining the remains that he had been killed by several different curses from several different wands… then dismembered after the fact."

"Disgusting…" Hermione shook her head. "So you think that this mysterious wizard has gathered up another group of followers like Voldemort once did?"

"It would appear so." Troy nodded. "The vampire I killed that attacked the Ravenclaw students was in possession of a Disillusionment bauble. It could have only come from some rather skilled wizard… skilled enough not to have it taken by force."

"Giants, Vampires, and Wizards… oh my…" Harry sighed. "It looks like someone is trying to build his own personal army of supernatural creatures."

"That is our fear, and evoking Voldemort's name no doubt only helps him in that cause." Dumbledore admitted. "But all that is only preface to what you no doubt wish to know, Harry."

"No… I can't imagine that I might be interested in how this relates to me." Harry said with a hint of bitterness, fists clenching as Hermione gently placed her hand on his arm to try and reassure him.

Dumbledore said, "The Order of the Pheonix got involved once Voldemort's name began to appear. Early in July, Remus and Nym… Tonks… intercepted an owl transferring orders from this 'disciple' to his various forces. In those orders were instructions to kill you in the name of his fallen master and how best to go about it."

Harry didn't respond… and that prompted Dumbledore to add, "You were an Auror at the time… they were planning to draw you out, then once you were out in the open, there were any number of ways to eliminate you that seemed accidental. I suspect the disappearance of Mr. Thigpen was one such ruse."

"So you brought me here?" Harry shouted, absolutely dumbfounded by what he saw as an epic lapse of judgment on multiple levels. "This insanely powerful wizard capable of dominating vampires and commanding giants wants me dead, and so you bring me to a school full of children? I can't believe I'm about to ask this… but… what in bloody hell is wrong with you? Have you actually gone completely barking insane?"

Hermione's hand tightened on his arm, but he could tell that even she was having a hard time wrapping her mind around such a potentially tragic plan. "That could have been Julie on that broom! An eleven-year-old girl! Do you mean to tell me that possibility didn't even enter your skull?"

"I… underestimated the power and influence of this madman, obviously." Dumbledore answered. "I had figured the protections on this school would be enough to keep the children safe, while at the same time forcing our enemy to come to us to get to you."

"Well, obviously you figured wrong!" Harry retorted in full bellow. "I can't believe you would do something like this! Then… then… you keep it all from me like I'm one of your first-years! You have completely flown off the wrong end of your broom! How could you do this to me… or your professors… or your students… or even yourself? It makes me wonder…"

Dumbledore's head slumped, and Harry realized that he had utterly crushed the headmaster. For a moment, Harry had pangs of sympathy until the image of Julie, flying into the air, then getting blown into pieces, stirred up his rage once more. How could Dumbledore have been so utterly careless?

Harry was about to dole out another scathing harangue when he felt an impossibly strong grip pinch down on the joint between his neck and shoulder blade. Harry yelped in pain, and Troy felt he had sufficiently got the young wizard's attention. "Potter… take a walk with me."

"Why?" He snapped back.

Troy's response was to again apply a little pressure to the tendon under his fingers. "That was not a request. You need to cool off before you say something that all of us here will regret you saying."

Hermione turned to follow as Troy led Harry towards the stairs, but the taller black coated man stopped her with an extended hand. "Boy talk, Miss Granger. Besides, why don't you get Albus some tea to calm his nerves?"

Once fully down the stairs, Troy moved into an empty hall, where he stopped; apparently choosing the dark, empty, and largely unused hall for their discussion. Harry went on his guard, quite aware of the tingling in his scar, and what he now knew of those trying to kill him.

Even before Troy had turned around to face Harry, the caretaker commented with slight amusement, "If I wanted to kill you, Professor Potter… believe me, I would have had ample opportunity before now to do so."

"Then what do you want?" Harry demanded, not entirely dropping his guard. "To tell me to leave your old friend alone?"

Troy laughed, "Of course not. To be honest, he deserves every second of it. I tried to convince him to let you in on the secret earlier, but he didn't want to disappoint you, and didn't want to trouble you with such terrible news."

"Disappoint me? Disappointment doesn't even begin to describe what I'm feeling. I was brought here under a lie so that I could be kept safe in this den of lies."

Even though Harry hadn't expressly noted what he was referring to, Troy seemed to know exactly. "Oh, come off it." The man said with a dry chuckle, "Surely you can't be so flustered that you can't do simple math."

Harry glowered questioningly, and Troy asked, "When did you get the offer to teach here?"

"Early June." Harry answered, as he did so inwardly running through the calendar himself, not wanting to concede the issue so quickly.

"Your name didn't even come up into the mix until July. Let me assure you, Albus made the decision to offer you the position quite a while before he knew you were in any sort of danger. He claimed he didn't tell you to prevent exactly this response… he didn't want you to think that you had been chosen simply because of this mess."

"Maybe that's true…" Harry remarked, "But that still doesn't excuse him for shielding me like I was one of his first-years!"

Again Troy laughed, "Harry, a parent never fully gets used to the fact that his child is all grown up. I can guarantee you there is a part of Albus who will always see the wide-eyed eleven-year-old in you."

Harry momentarily was aghast. "What are you prattling on about?"

Once again, Troy eyed Harry knowingly. "Oh please… don't be coy. I could tell the relationship the two of you had within the first couple of days." Troy placed a hand on Harry's arm, and said softly, "Albus views you as the son he never had the chance to have, and I am quite certain that you see him in a parental light… the father you never had the chance to know."

Troy's take seemed slightly too canny to be mere observation. "You got all that from just a couple of days, right?"

"Well… that and how he couldn't stop talking about how proud he was of what you had done every fifteen minutes." Troy admitted with a smirk. "The point is, that's why he always seems to treat you like you are simply a child… because there will always be this part of him that rather endearingly thinks you always will be."

"That's no excuse the take the sort of risks he did." Harry shot back. While he had calmed considerably, he still wasn't thrilled with how Dumbledore's plan had formed or progressed. "Had I known, I could have taken measures of my own to help."

"I know that… I had pressured Albus almost daily, especially as the incidents continued to mount. At a couple points, I was about to tell you myself… but I had gathered you somewhat distrusted me. Although, I suppose that was understandable. Besides, I'm not disagreeing with you. Albus had this coming… and he deserves it. I just sensed you were about to say something you would seriously regret later."

At that point, Harry became certain that Troy was some sort of mind-reader. Because no one could have simply guessed that Harry had been about to tell Dumbledore that, "It makes me wonder who's side you're really on. At least with Voldemort, I knew he was against me from the start… rather than have to learn it well after the fact…"

Troy didn't seem the least bit perturbed by Harry's empty stare. He slapped Harry on the shoulder, and then said jovially. "Now, let's go back upstairs, and give our good friend Albus Dumbledore a nice, proper chastising, okay?"

Shaking himself out of his semi-stupor, Harry nodded, and this time took the lead back into the halls…


	4. Eyes in the Dark

**Chapter four: Eyes in the Dark**

The next two weeks was filled with anticipation and gossip. With Madam Hooch incapacitated the question of who would be able to replace her as the Flying Instructor and Primary Quiddich Referee by the time the second half of the Cup Season started in the spring was flying about with names and rumors. The debate among the students was so intense that it actually overwhelmed gossip about the reason Madam Hooch had to be replaced to begin with.

Hermione shook her head in disgust at that fact. "It still amazes me how a stupid sport can make people forget what is truly important. Madam Hooch is in perilous condition, and all the brats can talk about is who is going to officiate the Gryffindor/Ravenclaw match in March… almost five months away."

"Some people need the distraction, Herms." Harry had replied knowingly. "Besides, I suspect you'll like the replacement."

"You sound awfully certain of that, Harry James Potter." Hermione said sternly. "I can only assume that Dumbledore has made a decision then."

"He had made the decision within days, actually. It simply took a while to confirm it, and for the individual in question to finish up prior engagements. I just happened to be talking with dear Albus when the owl carrying confirmation arrived."

"Is that right?" Hermione replied flatly, "Then do tell and spare me the suspense."

"It wouldn't be any fun that way. It's supposed to be a surprise, after all. Besides, you and the rest of the school will know by the evening meal." Harry pulled a small timepiece out of his pocket, and added, "As a matter of fact, he should be arriving pretty soon. I suppose it wouldn't hurt for us to get introductions out of the way while we have the chance."

With a dejected sigh, Hermione stacked her books to the side of her desk, and stood to follow Harry towards the docks. She mumbled the entire way there about wasting her time on "some ruddy broom jockey" and chiding Harry for looking so irritatingly smug.

They reached the west entrance just as Troy began to enter, and a familiar voice behind them attached to a familiar face they couldn't see muttered, "It's amazing how so little of this place has changed… it's almost like coming home… although if you ever tell my mother that, she'd bloody well kill me…"

Hermione squeaked joyfully, and exploded past Harry towards the doorway. Troy just happened to look up to see her bolting towards him, and luckily was able to sidestep and spin away from the charging woman. The man behind him, her target, was not nearly so lucky. There was a breathless grunt, and then a soft thud, as the poor fellow was literally thrown onto his back just outside the door.

"That is… if this barking mad girl doesn't kill me first…" Ron Weasely rasped, rubbing the back of his head where it had bumped against the ground. "It's good to see you, Hermy." Then with a slightly dazed voice, he added jovially, "All three of you…"

Troy stuck his head around the doorway, and whistled impressively. "I happen to know someone who works for the Oakland Raiders, Miss Granger. I think I'll drop him your name sometime."

Hermione paid no attention to them, as she slowly let Ron to her feet, and said, "This is such a wonderful surprise… although I do wish Harry had decided to tell me as soon as he knew. But he waited and waited until the last moment just like you did…"

Ron groaned, and replied, "I'm sorry about your birthday, okay? I was in a three game set and didn't have time to even so much as owl you. I sent your present as soon as I could! Honest!"

He then smiled at Harry, and pointed down at Hermione, "See? This is what I've had to deal with for months!"

Hermione turned away, as if upset with Ron, but her eyes twinkled with playfulness that belied her true feelings. Harry couldn't help but laugh… unfortunately, the good humor didn't last long.

"I see the wonder trio is reunited…" Snape remarked bitterly as he stepped to the front of the welcoming group. "The remaining Quiddich season will certainly no doubt be a shining example of impartiality."

"Oh, do get over yourself, Snape." Ron shot back, "Like you are so impartial yourself."

"Simmer, dear sirs, there will be plenty of time to argue about the fickle nature of the Quiddich pitch in due time." Dumbledore interrupted, as if oblivious to the negative emotions beginning to swirl about. "Mr. Ailona, I trust you showed Mr. Weasely where everything relevant to his position is?"

Troy smirked. "As if he hadn't been aware of them all already. Apparently, you don't change the layout of things much. Entropy is the bane of existence, you know…"

Harry grinned, and said, "You should have seen enough of his office to know that a barely controlled chaos rules our Headmaster's life, Troy… and fortunately not his grounds."

Meanwhile, Ron exchanged welcomes with several familiar faces then the procession moved to the Grand Hall for the evening meal.

After the evening meal, the three decided to visit Hagrid like old times. The half-giant was more than welcome to have the company, and immediately began boiling some water for tea. Fang didn't seem to have forgotten Ron in the time he had been away, and the image of the massive hound laying his head in Ron's lap might have been endearing… had Fang's head not been so massive that Ron looked like he was nothing but a chest and calves.

Harry asked in an effort to start conversation, "So, I hear you won the French Champes Cup this year."

Ron narrowed his eyes, and said bitterly, "Where did you hear that rubbish? We lost to the Navarre Comets in the final match 170-80. Our bloody Seeker this year could barely find the nose on his face, much less the Snitch."

Harry flushed in embarrassment. "Oh." Hoping that Ron didn't realize that Harry had actually thought Ron had played _for_ Navarre… not _against_ them. He promised himself to keep better track of the professional leagues in the future so as to not make such an epic mistake again. Fortunately, neither Hermione nor Hagrid had the knowledge to call him on the error, or that would have been particularly potent fodder for future teasing.

"I'm telling you, Harry, you blindfolded, with one arm tied behind your back, could be a better Seeker than this numbskull. He was looking around dumbly near the opponent's goal while the other Seeker grabbed the thing near midfield. It was something brutal."

Harry, unbelievably, wasn't all that interested. He had to stop hanging around Hermione… she was becoming a bad influence on him. Nonetheless, he laughed, and shook his head disbelievingly.

"Seriously, come down to Lourdes next fall with me. You can't be that out of form. Hells, you could be dead and probably be a better Seeker than our current loser."

Harry didn't immediately reply, his mind racing with all the ways the Disciple of Voldemort could have managed Harry's death in his Auror duties… and how easily it could be done on a Quiddich pitch. He began to wonder how much Ron knew about the situation at the school… and how much Albus had conveniently left out.

"That probably wouldn't be such a good idea given the current events, Ron." Hermione chided.

Ron's eyes began to move from Harry to Hermione to Hagrid, and he asked slowly, "What current events?"

Harry sighed, and rubbed his temple, "So, Dumbledore didn't tell you? Figures…"

"Didn't bloody tell me _what_?" Ron demanded impatiently.

At that moment, Hagrid set down several large cups of tea in front of them, and took a seat himself. Meanwhile, Hermione, mouth slack, finally gathered the motor skills to sputter, "You mean you don't know anything about the attempts on Harry's life?"

Ron sighed in relief. "Oh, you mean those? Of course I do. Dumbledore told me about them before I signed on to take over for Madam Hooch. I thought you were talking about something else."

"Something else?" Hermione sputtered. "I can't imagine how it could get any worse than that! You can be such an utter imbecile, Ron Weasley."

"Well, seriously, Herm…" Ron argued, "This wizard has been trying really hard to keep quiet and in the shadows, which tells me he probably wouldn't try anything like killing another wizard in front of tens of thousands of witnesses."

"With all the things that can go wrong in that game… it wouldn't be hard for him to disguise his intent." Hermione answered adamantly. "I've read the rulebook on that game, and any sport that is compelled to outlaw battle axes on the field of play probably isn't the safest of places to be."

As outrageous as it may have seemed to Harry just five years ago… he was actually agreeing with Hermione. Nonetheless, he didn't want to seem like he was agreeing with her for Ron's sake. So, before one of Ron and Hermione's animated spats could develop, Harry interceded, "Ron, under any other circumstances, I'd be sorely tempted to give it a chance. However, even if I was somehow still merely at the level I ended school at; I suspect that part of my life is long over."

Harry's statement had the desired effect. Hermione leaned back triumphantly, convinced she had won the argument, while Ron was satisfied that he had won out in his own little way. The peace was abruptly shattered when the sounds of a large number of hoof beats grabbed the attention of the hut's occupants.

Hagrid knew exactly who was responsible, although it didn't take a great amount of deduction to figure it out. "Buggerin' centaurs…" Hagrid muttered angrily under his breath, snatching his crossbow from its place leaning against the wall. "I might need you three's help. Judging from the weight of their hoof beats, those blasted creatures aren't suited up for a spot of tea…"

Hagrid turned out to be right… although Harry suspected that the half-giant had slightly underestimated the centaurs' numbers. Three rows of twenty horsemen formed ranks, the last fingers of the setting sun catching deep orange and gold reflections off the studs of their leather and hide armor. The front two rows carried long, beautifully polished and colored javelins and spears, while the rear line appeared to be prepared with bows and arrows. Ron gulped nervously, and whispered to Harry, "We're supposed to help with that?"

"I guess." Harry answered skeptically, his eyes scanning around for anything that could be used as cover… without much success.

A spear wielding centaur in the center of the first line took three strides forward. Harry recognized the face as belonging to Bane, not the friendliest of centaur-kind. "You have insulted our decency and our honor for the last time, Hagrid." Bane snarled.

Making sure the drawstring of his crossbow was tight, Hagrid growled back, "What are you going on about now?"

"Did you think we forgot about the minotaur you sent here?" Bane chided. "We have received an informant who identified you as the culprit of that monstrosity's presence."

Harry's eyes narrowed, "This informant wouldn't happen to have been Draco Malfoy, would it?"

"Our informant is none of your concern." Bane snapped, and Harry was somewhat surprised that Bane's expression didn't belay Harry guessing correctly. Either Bane was much better at hiding his thoughts than Harry expected, or more likely, Draco had nothing to do with the centaurs coming.

"It has been proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that Hagrid had nothing to do with the minotaur." Hermione said exasperatedly.

"Silence!" Bane roared, "This is not a time for arguing. Even if Hagrid wasn't responsible, which I highly doubt, he has committed enough crimes against the forest and our ownership of it over the last twenty years to deserve our just ire."

"And there you go with the ownership of the ruddy forest again…" Hagrid sighed. "The sooner you get it out of your skulls that you own the bloody forest just as much as I do, most of the problems between us will disappear."

"Our people roamed this forest for ages before that abominable castle was ever built. As far as we are concerned, you are merely visitors. One such visitor, that would be you, Hagrid, we will no longer tolerate. Archers at the ready!"

Tension ruled the grounds for a half second, and Harry began to wonder why no one had noticed the developing scene, even if it was rather late. Finally, Harry felt his scar tickle, and was finally confident that someone had taken notice.

"Is there a problem here, fellows?" Troy asked, his clothes almost perfectly blending into the deepening night, so that it seemed like he had materialized out of thin air. "Whatever it is, I suspect it is nothing to fight over."

"You would know nothing, then." Bane snorted dismissively.

"That may be… but I suspect I know far more than you." Troy said darkly, "Especially since you apparently are totally unaware of your peril."

"Our peril?" Bane laughed. "We are sixty strong, with hundreds more to reinforce us. You are five, with your other wizards preparing for slumber."

Even as the waxing moon began to rise, it was as if the light coming from it was absorbed by an invisible force before it ever struck the ground. Everything suddenly seemed darker, and Harry felt a raw emptiness in his gut began to swell through his whole body. The only time he had ever felt something similar to this was when he had been in the presence of a Dementor, but the similarities ended the moment the first wave of terror washed over him.

His mind was flooded with images of pure darkness dotted with countless glowing red eyes, his ears with the ghostly wailing of hundreds of thousands of tormented souls, their blood curdling screams making his veins chill cold, and a general paralysis to freeze his body. Harry's scar began to throb painfully, but he was barely aware of that, as it could have likely been due to the salty, cold sweat pouring down his forehead.

It was only with great effort that he willed his head to turn towards his friends. Hermione's face was ashen, her lips trembling, muttering something completely incomprehensible. Ron had fallen to his knees, mouth hanging loosely from his jaw, with his fingers starting to claw into his thighs. Even Hagrid's eyes were bulging wide, the half-giant's massive frame visibly trembling.

The centaurs were also clearly feeling whatever it was that was affecting the wizards. Half the archers in the back had dropped their weapons, and the other half had lowered them to the point where a slight breeze would have knocked them away. The rest of the centaurs staggered backward slightly, and only Bane seemed to be holding his ground. But even he looked like he was ready to bolt at the slightest provocation.

Then the second surge of fright hit like the storm waves on the school dockside. At that point, centaurs scattered like a school of startled fish, weapons and all sensibilities forgotten in their blind panic. Bane hesitated for a brief second, his eyes locked with Troy's, and by the time he turned to flee, it was too late. Troy lunged, grabbing the centaur by the neck, and whipping him to the ground fiercely.

Troy planted his right boot directly on the side of Bane's neck, staring down menacingly at the now whimpering centaur. "The next time you leave that forest behind you, or trouble anyone who goes inside it… I will break you at the knees." Troy growled, almost literally. His voice sounded almost like a cross between a man and a dragon, and sent shivers down Harry's spine, the only sensation he could really distinguish in his numb body save the pain in his scar.

Bane nodded rapidly, likely more out of fear of his very existence than anything else. With a sigh of disgust, Troy spat, "Then get going, and stop wasting my time."

Bane tried to scramble to his hooves so quickly that he stumbled and fell down again, but once the centaur did regain his balance, he bolted with all the speed his legs could muster towards the forest.

Only when Bane completely disappeared from sight did the unnatural darkness lift, and Harry could feel the blood starting to flow through his body again. He wiped the layer of accumulated sweat of his brow, and finally began to truly process the information his brain had acquired during the last minute or so.

Then, as if barely anything amiss had just occurred, Troy flipped a lazy salute, and said, "They shouldn't be bothering you for a while. Have a good night.", and then slipped off into the night towards the castle.

Ron slowly stood, and looked forlornly down at his winter robe, which had dipped up to his waist in the snow at their feet. Finally, he had the courage to ask, "Can anyone explain to me just what the bloody hell happened just now?"

Hermione replied, "I don't rightly know… this definitely calls for some research. There are a small number of creatures that can incite fear in their victims, like Dementors for example, but none of them can just call and dispel that ability on command."

Hagrid interrupted them, "Perhaps you'll all think clearer with something warm in ya. I suspect there's still some tea warming in my kettle."

As Christmas drew near, the trio were no nearer an explanation as they were that night. Because of their classes and impending semester exams, neither Hermione nor Harry had much time to research or investigate, and Ron… well, his attention span had been grievously shortened living the life of a professional sports star.

Classes had just finished that evening, and most of the students had gone home for the winter break. However, checking in on the Gryffindor Common Room, he noticed a familiar first-year girl as its lone occupant.

"Julie?" Harry asked.

The girl put down the book she was reading, a Muggle novel titled, _The Fellowship of the Ring_, from the cover. "Oh, hello, Professor Potter… I was just reading."

"Good book?"

Julie shrugged passively, "It's alright, I guess. Boring as all get out at first, but it picks up eventually. I've always liked fantasy books, with wizards and unicorns and stuff. My parents aren't too keen on them, though."

Harry smiled knowingly, "Is that why you're still here instead of heading home for Christmas?"

Julie shook her head, "My parents are in Australia visiting other family. We knew that I wouldn't be able to join them this year because the time my father and mother could get for vacation wouldn't work with my school schedule."

"Oh."

"That's not to say they are exactly thrilled that I'm here." Julie amended, obviously not wanting to speak at all poorly about her father and mother. "They're a bit overwhelmed with it all, I think… I know I was. I think they had a nice idea where I was going with my life, and now it's been completely thrown for a loop."

Harry said softly, "They'll come around, I'm sure. My aunt and uncle were absolutely against all of it, and likely still are."

"You think so?"

Harry laughed reassuringly, "Hagrid didn't have to come acquire you, which would mean they aren't so against this school that they won't even give you the chance. Besides, you're doing just fine here from what I can see. Your grades are exemplary, you appear to have made some nice friends, and it seems to me you like it here."

Julie nodded emphatically, "Oh, I do… I really do!" She turned her head towards the window, and peered out at the gentle snowfall. "Everything here seems so much… more… than it is in the Muggle world… even something as simple as the snow."

At that point, Harry sensed Troy was nearing. About three days ago, he had decided to try and get answers from an unlikely source… the person responsible himself. Unfortunately, the caretaker had been oddly absent the last few days.

"Hold that thought for a moment. I'll be right back, okay?" Harry asked, and barely perceiving her slight nod, quickly left the common room, following his scar like a divining rod. Eventually, he stopped at the upper walkway that encircled the prime entry hall. Troy was talking to Dumbledore, and not about the weather.

"I'm not strong enough to break through the wards on this castle, and I trust you've reinforced the wards protecting the grounds themselves." Troy stated.

"Yes… I cannot see how you'll be able to get inside the school. The nearest town is Hogsmeade, but I don't see how you would possess the judgment to go all that way."

"Good. Don't let anyone outside unless I return with my sunglasses on." Troy advised. "If I don't have them on, then I'm not myself, and you are under no circumstance to allow me inside. Just wait a couple days… and I shouldn't be a problem."

"Are you sure there is someone out there that will be sufficient for you?" Dumbledore queried.

"Before Bane and his cronies decided to take matters into their own hands and cause undue strain in our relationship, the centaurs had informed me that they saw a wizard consorting with the vampire enclave inside the forest. He hasn't left, and I suspect he will find the same trouble trying to escape as I would. He should serve my purposes well enough. I'm not terribly picky when hungry."

"Very well… peace be with you, my friend." Dumbledore said, grasping Troy's forearm.

"Peace has never been my traveling companion, Albus… I see no reason why that will change."

Harry made himself scarce before either Troy or Dumbledore could become aware of his presence. He returned to the common room, and to his horror, he noticed Julie was gone, and that she had taken her winter robe off the rack. Soon after, a shrill shriek ruptured the silence, and lunging to the window, he could barely make out a figure flying leisurely through the night sky, carrying a small squirming bundle.

Harry bounded out of the Common Room, and crashed into Ron, who was heading past with equal speed. Hermione pulled to a stop just before she too was engulfed in the tumbling mass as the two men fell several steps down before the banister kindly put a stop to their descent.

Harry didn't bother to give an explanation, nor did Ron or Hermione demand one, merely falling into running stride behind Harry. At the main entry hall, they met Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape, who appeared to be waiting for them.

"It was Julie!" Harry said with surprisingly strong breath after his sprint. "She snuck outside. I think a vampire took her."

Harry could only think of less than a handful of times in which Dumbledore looked panicked. "They know… they're going to try to give him an easier prey…" He muttered to himself. "I will need you all to stay here… and make sure the school continues to run properly… in case I do not return."

"Julie is the one out there, Albus." Harry protested, "I'm not going to sit here while she's in danger."

"Nor am I." Hermione challenged, a motion Ron seconded, though more likely because he didn't want to be left out while all his friends courageously stepped forward.

Dumbledore turned dismissively, "Very well, we do not have time to argue. Minerva, Severus… I am counting on you to keep the school secure."

He forced the doors open with a simple opening spell, and has he strode outside with Harry, Hermione, and Ron close behind, he warned, "Be cautious, you three, for I am afraid to say that this night holds a far greater peril than vampires…"

They crossed the exterior grounds without incident, though Harry was certain that once they reached the forest that things would change. When a pair of centaur scouts suddenly slipped into his vision, Harry worried that things were about to get ugly.

To his relief, they didn't. Apparently, the centaurs held Albus Dumbledore in considerably higher esteem than Hagrid… or anyone else for that matter. "Dumbledore, we are honored by your presence." The right centaur said reverently, and his companion joined him in a somewhat awkward bow.

"As I am by yours." Dumbledore replied with a gentle nod. "I trust Magorian sent you?"

"To lead you to the vampire nest if you are willing to assist us in ridding the forest of them." The scout answered.

"That is indeed where we are going." Dumbledore said. "However, I would request that Magorian ask you to return to your homes, and do not wander. The vampires will be dealt with, but there is another danger that might not discriminate between friend and foe as I would."

"You have been fair with us before, and your wisdom is not to be dismissed lightly. Very well, we shall guide you to your destination then relay your counsel."

Harry, apparently, wasn't the only one to notice the genteel exchange. "Wait… why's it that we can't go ten feet into this forest without being threatened by a centaur, yet they're about ready to offer you tea and pastry, Albus?"

"Respect takes time, patience, and wisdom, Mr. Weasely. I have had my lion's share of the former, ample amounts of the second, and apparently just enough of the latter to make due." Dumbledore answered. "That and I suspect the majority of your forays into this forest have been with Hagrid… whose occasional lack of restraint in matters of diplomacy have grated unnecessarily roughly against the sensibilities of these wonderful people. It is a misunderstanding I have tried to correct for years."

The centaur scouts helpfully took a slower gait so that their two legged followers could keep up through the sometimes rough forest terrain. In the back of his mind, Harry realized that he had gone farther into the forest than ever before… and that the dangers of the forest tended to get worse the further he had gone… and that it wasn't likely to change now.

Harry had finally been ready to ask what Dumbledore's conversation with Troy was about, when Albus threw up his hands to stop the procession. Ahead of them was a large earth mound that climbed to roughly seven meters at the top of the dome. A small open entry was carved into the mound plunging into a dark interior in which no light escaped from.

"That is no doubt where Miss Fitzsimmons is being held." Dumbledore said. "We must hurry quickly. Even now we might be too late."

With that in mind, Harry took the lead almost blindly, fortunately catching the movement of a heavy-set male vampire lunging from the inside of the mound. A quick incendiary spell caused the undead monster to tumble aside, batting in vain at the rapidly spreading flames that found purchase on its body.

Another pair prepared to attack, but quickly stumbled back as they felt the compelling force of the protective ward Harry cast around him and his friends. Finally catching up, the three other wizards reinforced the aura, allowing the group to push into the mound itself, vampires clamoring away from them in all directions until the four wizards emerged into the central chamber.

The vampire Harry had seen earlier was along the south wall of the chamber, holding a squirming Julie Fitzsimmons tightly in its grasp. Due the expectedly dim torchlight in the chamber, Harry couldn't accurately ascertain any of its features, but judging from the way that it was holding its own against his wards, he could be rather certain that it was the vampire lord Barbaras.

"Good, now that we have you right where we want you, we can stop our little game." Barbaras declared. With a snap of the fingers on its left hand, a small army of vampires emerged from the hallway they had just entered from, most of them likely the same undead monsters that had been running away from them just moments before. Harry muttered a curse under his breath, just now coming to understand just how powerful Barbaras's influence was… and how powerful it meant the Disciple of Voldemort was if the vampire lord was under the dark wizard's sway.

"You are not to feed on them, Barbaras." A light, sinister, feminine voice declared. The black robed figure that suddenly appeared took Harry by surprise, as it seemed like she had appeared out of nowhere. At first thinking she had apparated, he discarded the idea as there hadn't been any sign that she had done so.

"I know that, Mistress Andromeda." Barbaras answered. "After all, you want all the squishy bodies you can find to increase your own chances of survival. Didn't expect the demon-kin to get hungry quite so quickly did you?"

"I grow tired of your taunts, vampire." The wizard threatened, walking right in front of Harry so that he could see the back of her robe. An unusual symbol had been woven onto the back, the crimson red outline of what resembled a cat's eye. "Bear in mind that you are under my orders."

"For now…"

Andromeda smirked triumphantly. "Indeed… especially since I sense your unnatural existence on this mortal coil is about to come to a tragic end."

Clearly the wizard and the vampire lord were not exactly on the same page, Harry noted, hoping that problem extended beyond the pair. If there were divisions in the ranks, it would make his and his friends chances of surviving all the better.

"And how is that, I ask?" Barbaras queried coolly, making a few hand motions towards members of his legions to form ranks in front of him.

"Maybe my forecasts of exactly when our demon-kin was to become hungry was slightly… inaccurate." Andromeda noted slyly. "But perhaps that was intentional. Dear little Barbaras was an unfortunate casualty of the rampage. Oops, my mistake…"

"What do you mean, intentional?"

Andromeda consulted what Harry guessed to be some sort of timepiece, before declaring, "Yes… our dear friend should be arriving right about… now…"

There was the sound of breaking earth from above, followed seconds later by a trench-coat clad figure that fell exactly in the center of the chamber between Andromeda and Barbaras. Troy took about two seconds to analyze the situation, then without saying a word lunged at the vampire lord.

Barbaras initially panicked, and leaped to the side, releasing Julie as he did so. The ruse worked, as Troy didn't press the attack further, instead catching the young girl before she hit the ground roughly.

Troy whispered something to Julie and she dashed across the distance towards Harry's group. Harry caught her up, and the student clung to him tightly. It was clear she wanted to bawl over her undoubtedly frightening ordeal, but showing the courage that was the hallmark of her house, she maintained her composure to say, "Mr. Ailona says we have to leave now… he says he can't control himself much longer. Do you know what he means?"

Dumbledore replied, "There is no time to explain that, Miss Fitzsimmons. I suggest we do as he requests without delay."

Unfortunately in the meantime, they had forgotten about Barbaras, who shouted triumphantly from behind them, "If you survive this, witch, I suspect we will discuss our differences another time." The vampire lord then retreated from the grand chamber, using his unnatural strength to actually rip down the doorway, collapsing it shut with the earth above it.

A hideous scream turned their attention back towards Troy, who pulled his sunglasses from his face, and stuffed them in the pocket of his coat, before removing it in a flourish and hanging it on the chair that Barbaras had just vacated.

Dumbledore nudged Harry slightly, and began drawing a series of intricate runes in a circle around the group of wizards. He was about halfway done as Troy began to pull his long sleeved shirt over his head while vampire and wizard alike watched with either awed fright or uninformed fascination.

Dumbledore just finished the circle, the runes flashing with a gentle blue glow just as the familiar wave of terror struck. The protection circle that Dumbledore had fashioned clearly dampened the effects, but by no means completely. Troy finally opened his eyes, blood red irises and narrow slit pupils, glowing through the dim light of the chamber. A second later, two deep black dragon-like wings unfurled from his back, and Troy roared, a blood curdling howl that sounded like a banshee hooked up to a high density bass sub-woofer. Harry cringed, his ears ringing.

Behind him, he heard Hermione begin to stutter, "A… a… cam… cam…"

From the southeast section of the circular chamber, Andromeda finally shouted, "If you monsters wish to continue your unnatural existence, you must slay the beast now before he becomes too strong."

The vampires trapped in the chamber didn't immediately react to the order, and that delay proved to be deadly. With one powerful flap of his wings, Troy launched himself at the vampires, grabbing the closest creature before ripping its blackened heart out with his bare left hand.

Finally, the vampires retaliated in ever increasing waves, only to be mowed down by Troy with ruthless and bloodthirsty efficiency. The head of one decapitated vampire rolled a few feet from the edge of the protection circle, its blank stare causing Julie to yelp fearfully, and nearly slip inside Harry's robes. The said vampire's headless body then became a flying weapon, as Troy effortlessly swung it into three advancing foes, sending them all toppling to the ground.

One vampire finally seemed to get an opening, jumping forward and momentarily sinking its teeth into Troy's shoulder. Troy once again roared in anger, and grabbed the offending vampire by the neck, and pulled it away. The caretaker then bit into the vampire's neck, ripping almost half of the creature's throat out before discarding the vampire like a bag of trash, spitting out the undead flesh as he did so.

Once again, Harry heard Hermione mumbling frightfully, "A camb… camb…"

With every vampire in various number of pieces, Andromeda shrieked, and quickly threw a glistening, sheer, cloak over her form, then with a quick spell, extinguished every light in the chamber, enveloping everything in darkness in which the only thing Harry could see was the dim blue glow of the rune circle around him, the pale silhouettes of his friends, faint twinkles of stars from the hole in the mound ceiling, and Troy's glowing red eyes in the darkness as they turned in Harry's direction.

The eyes charged at him, crashing into the invisible barrier of the circle with a series of light blue sparks of energy. In the dim light created by the impact, Harry could see Troy's face, contorted in rage and mindless, almost animalistic, hunger. With each charge, he seemed to get closer, as if the barrier was slowly bending under the pressure.

"The circle will not hold long." Dumbledore remarked, "I will reinforce it for as long as I can. Harry, keep Miss Fitzsimmons calm while Ron and Hermione try and clear the exitway."

Unfortunately, Hermione didn't seem inclined to do much of anything but stare at the repeatedly charging Troy while muttering with equal repetition the same attempted word. Ron gave the effort an attempt, but after several spells, replied to Dumbledore, "I think that witch is impeding my efforts… it's being a struggle just to move a pebble."

Dumbledore nodded, "It makes sense… she's going to make us the bait and hope to sneak away when Troy has been sated." Dumbledore's explanation was enhanced by another full body crash by Troy on the protective circle… who had now seemed to find some purchase in the barrier… wriggling his ichor-stained left wrist around like he had gouged a small tear in a wall. Brown clotted vampire blood flew about as he did so, splattering randomly on the group as they instinctively took short steps back. One droplet struck Julie on the cheek, and she pulled her face out of Harry's chest quizzically.

The young girl blinked a couple times then appraised the scene before her. She then squirmed out of Harry's grasp, and despite his attempts to pull her back, she experimentally raised her wand and said, "_Lumos_"

Instantly, the chamber exploded in light. Troy suddenly howled in pain, and staggered away from the source of illumination, pressing his left forearm over his eyes.

"Brilliant idea, Miss Fitzsimmons!" Dumbledore cheered. Leaning close to Harry, Albus added, "This might be our best and only chance. I want you to ignite the dark witch's cloak with a small fireball once I tell Julie to extinguish her wand."

Harry nodded, making note of Andromeda, who seemed to be largely unconcerned by Julie's spell, probably thinking it was merely delaying the inevitable. No doubt she knew several spells that would quickly darken the chamber once more, but was content to let Julie continue for a while.

Troy started moving forward again, swiping with his right arm like a feeler while his other remained covering his eyes. "Julie, remove your light…" Dumbledore requested

Confused by the order, but not wanting to disobey the Headmaster, Julie reluctantly ended her spell. Sensing that the light had died away, Troy pulled his arm away from his face, the glowing red circles of his eyes once again the only significantly visible object in the vicinity.

"Now, Harry!"

Harry quickly flipped an incendiary spell where he had last seen Andromeda waiting along the wall. He wasn't completely accurate, but close enough to catch the back of her shimmering cloak with flame. Troy's eyes followed the ball like a cat teased with a piece of tin foil. Meanwhile, Andromeda momentarily forgot the situation as she yelped, the flames beginning to spread along her cloak before she hurried it off her shoulders.

"Nice try, Mr. Potter." She sneered, "But even if you kill me, one of you would still die…"

"The intent was not to kill you, madam." Dumbledore replied, "I'm afraid our friend has far greater expertise in that field."

Andromeda's bluster died away like the winds after a thunderstorm. Through the light provided by her burning cloak, she could see the stalking form of Troy approaching her like a sadistic hunter, growling with reptilian beastly fury.

Andromeda yelped in terror, and instantly reached for her cloak, jumping back as the growing flames singed her hands. She then cast three Killing Curses just before Troy pounced, the first two missing while the third struck him in the shoulder. Unfortunately for Andromeda, the curse that could rip the life out of most any living being only seemed to make Troy angry. He howled furiously, rolled the affected shoulder twice, and then pounced on the defenseless witch.

"I would suggest you turn away… this will not be a sight for the light of stomach…" Dumbledore warned.

This of course, Harry simply found he couldn't do. The still burning cloak provided just enough light for him to see Troy rip a large gouge in Andromeda's stomach with his right hand, then dive headfirst into the wound. There was the squish of blood and the wet tearing of internal tissue before Troy lifted his head with reddened, dripping intestines hanging from his teeth. Andromeda screamed a banshee, and Harry barely registered Julie clutching his legs and pressing her face into his knees while Troy slurped down the remains like spaghetti.

He went into the breach again, this time wolfing down the remaining intestines and what Harry guessed was Andromeda's liver. The witch's screams were fading, but it was clear she was still alive as Troy devoured her with what Harry could only describe as a beastly, yet sadistic, glee.

After apparently cleaning out Andromeda's abdominal cavity, he moved to her arms. Harry heard the bones snap and muscles tear as Troy's mouth ripped half her forearm from the rest, and busily crunched on the bone and cartilage, less than a minute later doing the same with the other arm.

Harry heard Ron finally give up fighting back the bile compiling in his throat after Troy then split Andromeda's ribcage open with a gouging uppercut along her sternum. Hermione continued to repeat her half-finished mumblings, and even Dumbledore was looking quite green. Blessedly, the cloak finally burned to nothing just as Troy once more bent down towards Andromeda's weakly whimpering form, no longer giving enough light to see anything but the vaguest of outlines. There was one final, bloody gurgle from Andromeda, and then silence; save for the ripping of muscle, slurping of blood, and crunching of bone.

Finally, Hermione finished what she had been trying to say. "A cambion… he's a… cambion…"

The gruesome sounds continued for about a half-hour before total silence ruled the chamber. There was some rustling of clothes before Troy spoke for the first time, his voice regretful. "I'm done. You can have some light now."

Harry really didn't want to see the aftermath of the grisly battle, but Dumbledore lit up the area with his wand. Harry's eyes instantly went to where Andromeda had lied… to see nothing but blood-stained ground and the shredded remains of a black robe. Troy had eaten almost everything.

"It is safe now." Dumbledore replied, "We can leave the circle."

"If it's all the same to you… I'd rather stay." Ron said, and Harry could feel Julie nodding against his legs.

Troy didn't wait for anyone else to move. He walked around the circle, his head down in a mixture of disgust and regret. He examined the blocked passage, and with a grim determination, started flinging rocks and debris, rejecting the aid Dumbledore tried to offer. Within two minutes, the hall was cleared enough for exit, and Troy was about to do just that before he paused with one leg in the hall. "I'm sorry you had to see that." He said forlornly, "I won't be returning to the castle right away, Albus… I think your friends need some time."

He then left the wizards alone to gather their wits and return to the school to fail miserably at sleep.


	5. Into the Pensieve Once More

**_Chapter five: Into the Pensieve once more_**

Had anyone told Harry that at any point in his life, he and Ron would be poring over book after book in the Hogwart's library without any pushing or prodding by Hermione, he likely would have hexed said person just for the thought.

Yet, here he was, five years later, dutifully checking the entire collection of monstrous compendiums they could find in the library for anything that matched the horrified word Hermione had muttered the night before.

Not finding it in the current tome in front of him in either the main pages or the index, Harry slapped the book shut with a dejected sigh, placing it on the top of the third stack of such books he had compiled. "Any luck?"

"I've gone of Carbunkles to Cockatrices to Cymorants." Ron moaned, "Nothing."

From behind them, there was a polite cough that caused them to jump. Whirling about guiltily, even though they weren't doing anything wrong, they found themselves looking up at Dumbledore, the aged wizard's bushy eyebrows raised almost playfully.

"If I were not reasonably certain in regards to my sanity, I would be worried I was going mad." The headmaster said lightly, "Professor Granger would surely faint in shock to see you two here without her… strong recommendations."

Dumbledore's eyes caught the massive collection on the table in front of the two young wizards, and said cheerily, "I suspect you won't find any mention of Cambions in those books, gentlemen… but I suspect I know where you could."

He then turned about, and began to walk away. After about ten feet, he turned slightly, and asked, "Well, are you coming?"

Harry and Ron jumped out of their seats, and caught up the distance before Dumbledore began walking again, this time towards the "Forbidden Knowledge" section of the library. The librarian gave a polite nod to Dumbledore as she watched the three enter, albeit with a small degree of wariness.

Harry and Ron hadn't had much reason to be in this section of the library many times, so the old shelves and somewhat dark atmosphere still held that degree of mystery that Hogwarts as a whole had once held when they were but schoolboys.

Their heads were trying to look in so many directions except forward that they nearly ran into Dumbledore when he abruptly stopped halfway down the fourth shelf of the section. The headmaster's eyes ran up and down the shelf, finally stopping with a satisfied, "Ah! Yes… here it is."

Dumbledore grabbed one rather thin book in bound black leather and some form of blood red lettering on the front cover. "I do believe this will hold what you are looking for. As you might guess from the title, this is a book that is not in common circulation for obvious reasons."

Harry took the book, and read out loud the title:

**101 Fiends and Creatures of Hell**

**Or**

**101 Things that would make you Lose Sleep Every Night if you Knew they Existed**

"There should be tables in the northwest part of this section if you would wish to sit down." Dumbledore noted. "If you have any questions later, I suspect I will be in my office."

With that, the aged Headmaster of Hogwarts retreated from the library while Harry and Ron found the study tables in question. Taking seats side by side from each other, Harry opened the book, and jumped back as the front page belched a bright plume of flame and a choking sulfuric smoke.

Ron coughed twice and muttered, "Was that really necessary? I sometimes think these books are more dangerous than the damned things they tell about."

Harry began skimming the headings, intentionally ignoring the fearsome and horrifying images on many of the pages, even as some of them growled angrily, and one of them actually fought the page being turned. "Abyssmars… Balrogs… ah! Cambions!"

"Move over, I can't see…" Ron said, nudging Harry's shoulder in the process. Harry slid to his left slightly, and nearly bonked heads with Ron as they began to read the section.

**_Many of the more conservative elements of the wizarding world would point to half-giants as the reason why half breeds should be disavowed and possibly criminalized at all costs. While this may be, half-giants would not be the one to hold the argument true._**

**_The term, Cambion, was once specifically defined as the offspring of a mortal man and a succubus (page 441), but has recently come to mean any direct progeny of an unholy union between humans and demons. This is different from the Tiefling (page 510), which merely carries fiendish blood somewhere along their family line._**

**_In the case of Cambions, the axiom that "the whole is greater than the sum of its parts" is disturbingly accurate. Cambions hold many of the strengths of their mortal and demonic heritage, and few of their weaknesses._**

**_For example, most Cambions have few of the telltale marks of demons, and the few that they do have can be hidden with a high enough degree of ingenuity. Thus, they can mingle and hide in plain sight among their human kin without the need of magical charms or devices which would be detected by most vigilant wizards. They also aren't nearly as affected by wards as their full-blooded demon relatives, and banishment charms have no effect whatsoever._**

**_Conversely, while not fully possessing the inhuman physical attributes of their demonic relatives, Cambions are still far stronger and faster than any normal human, and even carry the hastened healing and regeneration of demons. They also often possess a demon's hardiness and inherent resistance to magic. Only the Unforgivable Curses can be counted on to do anything of any real significance to a Cambion, and even the Killing Curse will not do much more than knock a Cambion unconscious for a short time… provided the curse strikes a direct hit to the Cambion's heart._**

**_Cambions also carry many, if not all, of the innate magical abilities of its fiendish parent. The abilities will vary depending on said parent, but almost all Cambions will have some limited psychic abilities, like sensing emotion or even perhaps mind-reading, as well as the ability to create an aura of pure fear that would incapacitate all but the staunchest of souls._**

**_Fortunately, there are never many Cambions on the mortal coil at any given time, and they actually spend more time fighting each other than anything else. Nonetheless, a Cambion in the throes of "The Hunger", an altered mental state that can only be sated through gruesome killing marked by the almost ritualistic devouring of a still living victim, is a near unstoppable force that leaves bodies and horrific damage in its wake._**

**_There is no one always effective strategy to use in the unfortunate case of actually fighting a Cambion, as its vulnerabilities depend greatly on the demonic creature that helped spawn it. But if that knowledge is possessed, the weaknesses that marked its demonic parent will be at least somewhat effective against it. For example, a Cambion born from a Balrog could withstand the flames of the hottest of forges, yet would greatly abhor the chilling freeze of an English winter._**

**_Regardless, the best rule when encountering a Cambion is not to get into a fight with one. By and large, save when afflicted by "The Hunger", a Cambion will not give much thought to attacking a mortal unless provoked. The reason for this general apathy is not fully understood, as their full-blooded demon relatives are known to kill and destroy with great malice and without any prejudice. Some of those who have had the chance to study these creatures suspect that they carry the free will of their human kin, but there is no empirical way to prove such a theory._**

Harry closed the book slowly, turning to Ron to gauge his friend's expression. The red-haired man was staring dumbly at the book, his lower jaw hanging limply from his head.

"Bloody hell…" Ron finally muttered, "Why in Merlin's name did Dumbledore bring one of those things _here_?"

"I think that's the question he wants us to ask." Harry answered.

"Then shall we?"

Harry nodded silently, closing the book, and placing it on the cart marked for return to the shelves. They stopped at the Gryffindor common room to check on how Julie was faring, and were pleased to discover that she was taking her mind off of the events of the last night by playing wizard chess with one of the few other students staying over the break.

They took no more detours to Dumbledore's office, and it seemed like everyone they met in the halls understood that they were not to be pestered or hindered. Even Snape gave them a wide berth, quickly sidestepping the pair as they met at the landing to Dumbledore's office.

"Sweaty Muck Pickles." Harry huffed, not even amused by Albus's whimsical password choices. They both waited as the stairway appeared, but hesitated for a brief moment before slowly taking the steps two at a time.

Hermione and Dumbledore were waiting, the latter behind his desk, while the former took a spot just to the left front. Hermione seemed rather impatient, as she tapped her foot, and said, "It's about time. Albus refused to tell me anything until the two of you were ready."

"I figured it would be easier to relate once with all three of you present rather than tell the same story twice." Dumbledore said as if in explanation. "Thus, it was necessary for you, Harry, Ron, to catch up to what Hermione clearly already knew."

"This creature… a cambion… is Troy really one of them?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore nodded solemnly, "Indeed. Arguably one of the most powerful cambions I've had the chance to encounter. His demonic parent was clearly of great stock."

"Then why… first you drag me into the school, putting these students at risk… now we find out this thing… are you _trying_ to get these young kids killed?"

Dumbledore regarded Harry sternly, then chastised. "You are beginning to sound more like Cornelius Fudge than I would like. How do you think Remus would appreciate those words coming from your mouth? I had thought we had taught you better than that."

Harry snapped his lips shut, realizing that he had taken a rather boorish step. Harry certainly didn't feel that Lupin was of any significant danger to anyone, and that he was making a judgment that was potentially unfair. Nonetheless, there were some significant differences.

"But Lupin's curse can be controlled, as I understand." Ron took up the argument in Harry's silence. "That doesn't appear to be the case here. Secondly, Remus was afflicted with his condition… Troy was born with this apparently violent and evil force dwelling inside him."

Hermione had remained silent up until that point. "Perhaps we can better judge your actions if we actually learn what it is you seem to be so desperate for us to hear."

"Why just tell you… when I can show you?" Dumbledore stated, pointing down to the all too familiar bowl on his desk, filled three-quarters of the way with the silver liquid that was the manifestation of his multitude of memories, both recent and likely quite distant. He probed the surface with his wand, muttering to himself, "This is a particularly old memory… I suspect it's quite down near the bottom… no, that's not it… not quite, a little earlier than that… Ah! There we are."

Dumbledore took a step back, then said, "Have a look, but don't crowd."

Positioning himself in the center, Harry saw Hermione flank his left and Ron to his right in his peripheral vision before he was enveloped by the images of the Pensieve…

"Albus Dumbledore, I presume?" A middle-aged wizard with a neatly combed brown beard and bizarre yellow and red striped wizard's hat asked, shaking hands with a much younger man, clean shaven, with hair as dark as night. Nonetheless, the whimsical smirk, and energetic eyes were a good giveaway to the trio watching events unfold.

_ ("I could never picture Dumbledore as a young man…" Hermione commented with a whisper, even though she could have screamed her head off without disturbing anything going on and about._

_ "I know… I guess I always figured he had been born with a knee length beard or something…" Ron quipped.)_

Meanwhile, the young Dumbledore graciously accepted the wizard's welcome. "That I would be, Doctor Murrell. I am grateful that you called me first upon recovering your… special guest."

"I don't know of anyone else who can give us any idea as to just how dangerous of a thing we've found. You're probably the world's premier expert on inter-planar creatures." Murrell said.

"Oh, do stop… you're making me blush." Dumbledore replied coyly. "I am nowhere near old enough to be the premier expert on anything."

"Old enough… you just don't look it with that clean chin of yours. You do the wizarding world a disservice shaving yourself bald. When will you act like a proper wizard?"

"Whenever I become so lazy with my personal appearance that I allow hair to take command of my face, I can only hope that incurable madness either immediately precludes or immediately follows it."

_ (None of the three bystanders were entirely certain whether to take those words as a joke, or somehow prophetic, but it did manage to get them to guffaw or chuckle despite themselves.)_

"I suppose you'd like to look at the demon-spawn, now wouldn't you?" Murrell suggested, pointing to what was likely the main hall leading off the foyer.

"Yes, I suppose we shouldn't waste time. Hogwart's does not like its professors to dally, it appears." Dumbledore agreed, but not before adding, "I would also ask that you not call our guest 'demon-spawn'. He is likely a cambion, if what you tell me is true… hardly a pure demonic prodigy… and just as human as he is demon."

Murrell instantly waved off the suddenly irked Dumbledore. "I… apologize. Pardon my ignorance. Not that being half-human would be much better. Not much better than the half-bloods your school has decided to start accepting, even."

This time, the young Dumbledore bit his tongue.

_("Attitudes against half-breeds and 'mudbloods' were even more pronounced and generally accepted in the past than it is now."__ Hermione said bitterly._

_ "That brings up a good question…" Ron asked, "Just 'when' are we?"_

_ Harry tapped his chin as the images in the pensieve followed Dumbledore and Murrell down the main hall. "Well, Albus is still a professor at this point and time, and since he still looks quite young…"_

_ "We are likely seeing events from some time around 1865." Hermione stated matter-of-factly. "You can tell by the blue scarf on Murrell's forearm. Those were only worn by Northern Wizards to support the __Union__ during the American Civil War."_

_ "I was getting to that…" Harry groused._

_ Hermione grinned triumphantly, "Sure you were.")_

Murrell's voice drew their attention once more, as they entered a large empty dormitory, save for the direct center of the floor, where a series of three glowing blue circles similar to the ones Dumbledore had made in the vampire enclave surrounded a young boy no more than twelve years old. The child looked up, but didn't open his eyes, for reasons that Harry now understood. Troy couldn't stand light much brighter than a full moon. As he did so, apparently his balance shifted, because Troy unfurled his wings slightly to steady himself.

"Oh, yes indeed… you have indeed found a cambion… and at such a young age. This is truly a rare opportunity. Most cambions are born in the lower planes, and don't escape until adulthood. Where did you find him?" Dumbledore clearly had forgotten any umbrage he might have had, fascinated with the boy.

"Witch hunters found the Muggle woman who was apparently his mother, razed the entire property, and burned her at the stake. We went to investigate to see if a witch really had been caught… and found this young man sitting in the center of the burned down house just covered in blood. The sadistic little sot staked each hunter to the ground through the heart… with their own femurs."

Dumbledore nodded, as if not terribly surprised. "They were fortunate, really. Had he been at full maturity, and controlled by 'The Hunger', I'm afraid death would have merely been a welcome escape."

"You mentioned that 'Hunger' thing when I lettered you before you arrived. Should we move him somewhere secluded?" Murrell asked nervously.

"No… as far I as understand, cambions do not fall victim to that curse until they reach maturity. He probably has roughly a decade before we have to worry about that."

"Good." Murrell stated, "That will give you plenty of time to study him before we have to arrange to have him… well, you know… disposed of."

Finally Dumbledore lost his composure, "I will hear of no such thing… do you understand me? We will deal with that when it comes, but if I must appeal to the highest authority in this nation or my own, execution of any human, full or partial, will not be an option."

Murrell stepped back like Dumbledore had slapped him. "Well, of course… if that's what you want. You're in charge, after all. I apologize for overstepping my bounds."

Dumbledore shook his head. "It's not me you should be apologizing to. However, if we are to work together properly, perhaps you should come to accept one thing. I am not a discriminatory person. All living things have my respect until they prove unworthy of it."

"I see… I'll try to keep that in mind. Would you like me to leave while you interview… him?"

"No, as a matter of fact, I insist you stay." Dumbledore ordered. "I have discovered that most fears and prejudice are born of ignorance. Perhaps you should get to know this young man… he might just surprise you."

"Yes… I suppose being introduced to your intestines would be surprising." Troy muttered with macabre coldness.

"That's the sort of thing that has been giving me and the other wizards here a fright." Murrell accused with a shudder. "It's why we have him surrounded by all those wards."

Dumbledore chuckled, and said with an amused grin, "You truly do not know much about cambions, do you? These wards would probably prove to be a nuisance, to be sure, but if he desired to escape and murder every single person in this building, I suspect he could without much trouble. Yet, he does not. Why do you think that is?"

"Because they haven't done anything except be understandably scared of me." Troy said candidly. "I killed those witch hunters because I wanted them to know what it felt like; to be tortured… to slowly die in agony. My mother and I weren't hurting anyone."

"Fascinating…" Dumbledore mumbled, turning back to the boy. "You can see the two halves of his whole so easily… he definitely knows how to kill and possesses the inherent knowledge of demon kind… yet at the same time, the innocence of a child."

At that point, Albus seemed to notice that Troy was not entirely comfortable. "Dear boy… is something bothering you?"

"First of all, my name is Troy; Troy Ailona, not 'boy'." Troy grumped. "Secondly, it's just too bright in here. It's making my eyes hurt."

"Oh!" Dumbledore exclaimed. "Well, we shall soon correct that. Murrell, please put out the lamps in here."

"O… okay…" Murrell stammered, "I'm just worried… what if he's like some creatures that grow more powerful in the dark?"

"Since he no doubt already has the power to escape, I fail to see how complying with his request will change anything." Dumbledore reasoned. "Now, will you do as I request, or must I do it myself?"

"No! No… I've got it…" Murrell yelped before flicking his wand hand, instantly shrouding the room in darkness save for the feeble light from the ward circles.

Troy opened his eyes slowly, the glowing blood red circles scanning his surroundings.

"Interesting… yes… yes… this makes sense." Dumbledore said, more to himself than anything. "Troy, it might interest you to know that you were likely sired by a demon from the Pit of Acheron… a lightless void before the infernal castle of Pandemonium… where some of the most powerful hellish minions dwell."

"Is that right?" Troy drawled, his voice not reflecting any potential interest at all. "Can't say I've ever been there."

"It must have been tough on you." Dumbledore then said soothingly. "Growing up unable to see the world during the day. You probably weren't allowed outside much at all, even at night, were you?"

"Mother told me that people would hate me if they knew about me." Troy replied. "It seems she was right."

"Well, I certainly don't hate you, and I suspect Mr. Murrell here is more afraid of the unknown you represent than any hatred." Dumbledore contended.

Troy's eyes finally focused on Dumbledore, and the cambion boy stated, "You are seeking something I am not sure I can help you find, Albus Dumbledore."

"Wonderful!" Dumbledore exclaimed with a soft clap. "You have even inherited the telepathy of your demonic kin."

_ (In the back of his mind, Harry heard Hermione make a gasp of embarrassment, but he was too enthralled by the images of the Pensieve to give it much thought.)_

"Sometimes." Troy amended, before turning his eyes towards one of the walls. "There is someone here who wants to kill you, Mr. Dumbledore… someone who has not met me or I'd be able to identify him."

"Well, I shall keep an open eye then." Dumbledore replied. "However, I have had a long trip, and am somewhat fatigued."

Murrell nodded, and said, "I will show you to your quarters. Right this way."

"Actually…" Dumbledore replied thoughtfully, "Perhaps you can have some bedding brought in here. I think Troy here could use the company."

"More like you're afraid of someone killing you in your sleep." Troy mused, although his voice reflected his pleasure at Albus's suggestion. "But if it doesn't bother you, it does not bother me."

The Pensieve's image shifted, to be replaced by the same room, but this time with several small candles where the lamps had been, providing enough light to see without causing any apparent distress to Troy.

"As you can I see, I erased the wards three days ago, and there have been no grossly murdered bodies found on the environs." Dumbledore explained. "So, in conclusion, I can only assume that Troy means us as much harm as any normal twelve year old boy."

At the same time, Murrell and one other wizard were studying Troy more closely. The cambion boy's back was turned to them while the unidentified wizard lifted his wand, and said softly, "_Crucio_"

A small burst of energy struck Troy in the back, but rather than crumpling in agonizing pain like most people, Troy flinched, looked back over his shoulder disdainfully, and said, "Don't do that."

Oblivious to the order, the wizard turned to Murrell, and said, "Freakishly unnatural… that curse barely fazes him. See what I mean, Dorian? _Crucio_"

Another bolt, another glare, and a slightly more forceful warning followed the spell. Murrell nervously turned towards Dumbledore, and raised his voice to get Albus's attention, "Professor Dumbledore, I might need your help here…"

Albus twirled about to ask what he was needed for just in time to see the other wizard snap another Crucius curse towards Troy. This time however, the boy didn't give any more chances, leaping and spinning in mid-air, catching the wizard in the chest and knocking him over. Albus quickly intervened, grabbing Troy by the shoulders to try and calm him while the cambion boy growled threateningly.

"That hurts!" Troy finally screamed at the wizard, respectfully relinquishing his grip. "Stop it!"

"Of course, a twelve year old boy who doesn't understand his own strength…" Albus hastily amended to the group of wizards he had been speaking to at first. "However, I ask you to note that he attacked only under duress that would cripple any normal full-grown man."

"We shall grant you that, Albus." The wizard at the head of the procession declared, "And rest assured that Mr. Kincaid will be reprimanded accordingly. We'll let you continue your study now. Kincaid, come with us… _now_."

As the group left, Troy snorted, and said, "They won't punish him. I could hear it in that blowhard's head. He just didn't want to insult you and risk losing good favor with Hogwart's."

"I wouldn't doubt it." Dumbledore said with a hint of disgust. "I should have been paying more attention to him."

"Yes, you should have. He's the one that wants to kill you."

Dumbledore started. "I had almost forgotten about that. Are you positive?"

"Thoughts of your death are foremost on his mind." Troy explained, then his voice became somewhat uncertain, "There are other things, but I can't make much sense of them. Some sort of prophecy… he thinks you're going to do something that he can't let you do… it's too unclear from that point on."

"Should we inform the Chief Researcher of this?" Murrell queried. Clearly the passing of time had changed Murrell's opinion of Troy, as there was no indication of disbelief or fear in the researcher's voice.

"And have him ignore us?" Dumbledore snorted derisively. "Not likely. The three of us are just going to have to keep alert, and prepare ourselves for whatever Mr. Kincaid has planned for us."

Another ripple, and another memory followed. Apparently, they had not planned well enough. The wizard known by the name of Kincaid had pinned down Dumbledore in a secluded hall, their wands pointed at each other as if ready for a deadly duel.

"May I ask for what reason you are seeking my demise?" Dumbledore queried, showing his immutable calm even while facing death.

"You may… and I suppose I'll even answer." Kincaid remarked. "Not too many people know that I have a gift of foresight. I saw into your future before you ever arrived here in Hartford. You will do things that I can't allow to happen."

"What would those things be, pray tell?"

"Don't be coy… I can see it in the way you befriended that creature, making him believe he is at all equal or deserving as us. I bet you think of Muggles and those half-blooded abominations in the same way, don't you?"

"If it is wrong to feel that all people deserve the same respect and rights as anyone else, then I suspect this is one thing I never wish to be right about."

"You'll completely destroy the entire hierarchy of the way things should be!" Kincaid hollered. "You're wrong about the half-bloods, Dumbledore. I've seen it! You'll give rise to one of the most evil wizards ever known if I let you continue your foolish altruism!"

Dumbledore was appearing increasingly certain that he was talking to a madman, and began to scan his surroundings for any chance to escape or turn the tables on Kincaid, a chance he found almost right in front of him.

He was standing on a large grate that led down to the cellar of the building, and in that cellar, he saw a pair of gleaming crimson eyes, narrowed fiercely at the hall above. Troy didn't need to say a word for Dumbledore to understand what he wanted.

"Very well… then I suspect we should get this over with…" Dumbledore said with a resigned tone, raising his wand as if ready to start combat… then with a flick extinguished both torches at the ends of the hall.

It didn't take Kincaid long to realize what Dumbledore's plan was. He launched a Killing curse at Albus, but Dumbledore had quickly moved to allow Troy to burst out of the cellar, the grate above it clattering as it crashed against the walls and the floor. Two gleaming eyes signified Troy as the cambion boy launched himself at Kincaid and delivered two punches that cracked bone onto his victim.

At first, Dumbledore was afraid that Troy would kill Kincaid like the boy had the witch hunters who attacked him. However, before he could move to stop Troy, the young one in question appeared so quickly in front of him that Albus nearly collided with him.

"Is he…?" Dumbledore began to ask.

Troy huffed. "If he is, then he is even frailer than I had figured." Troy's eyes then turned away before he added, "But he is still producing warmth, so I doubt it. He's just napping right now."

"That is good. For a moment, I must regretfully admit that I was worried you'd…"

"Kill him?" The cambion's eyes turned back to Dumbledore. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to. But my mother would not have liked that… and I don't want to disappoint her again. I might have been born from a creature of pure evil… but that doesn't mean I have to be that way."

"That's good to hear." Dumbledore said with a smile, "Because I suspect that you could be of great use to a lot of people, given time."

Another image, another time, and this time another place. Dumbledore was pointed down the brick hall and wooden paneled floor that looked nothing like the research facility of the earlier memories, towards a large metal door with only three small slits carved in it. Two neatly robed men pulled the massive door open, and Dumbledore hurried inside, the door closing behind him with a resounding thud, enveloping him in complete darkness.

"Troy?" Dumbledore queried loudly.

A pair of eyes turned toward him from the far south wall of the cell. "Albus?" Troy's voice called, much deeper and more mature then before.

"I came as soon as Dorian informed me that you were starting to experience some… tendencies of violence. Have you fed?"

The eyes bobbed in nodding. "There isn't much left I'm afraid." A startling sob followed, and then Troy spoke again. "I didn't want to… I tried to stop myself… but I couldn't. I wanted to, but I didn't want to at the same time. It felt like I was a stranger in my own body… yet in full control of things that I didn't want. I just felt so hungry, but no food could sate me."

Dumbledore nodded, "We've been preparing for this. It's why you stayed here rather than coming with me. That man, he was condemned to die anyway. The American Government had agreed to give you a person judged to be executed for you to feed on every year when this happens."

"I've had that explained to me… but that doesn't make it any easier."

Dumbledore then said soothingly, "I know. I am looking for some way to cure this as we speak. Unfortunately, research has been slow, and I am not going to risk your life testing theories on you. As much as I deplore the capital punishment this nation revels in, I'd much rather the criminals that are sentenced to die do so than you. I merely ask you to hang on, and never come to enjoy these episodes as others of your kind seem to have done."

"No chance of that." Troy remarked. "If it never happens again, I'd be completely happy."

"I'm afraid to say it likely will happen again, and quite likely on a fairly regular cycle. Keep strong, keep safe, and I will do whatever I can to help you…"

Finally, Dumbledore pulled the Pensieve away, and the three were momentarily disoriented as they took their bearings once more. "As you might have guessed… I haven't found any treatment for Troy. I had a promising theory developing about twenty years ago, but circumstances beyond my control pushed it by the wayside."

"I never imagined Troy was that old, and had dealt with something like this for this long." Hermione said. "To be so obviously traumatized by something that he has no power over. It's amazing he hasn't done something rash to himself…"

"He has." Dumbledore remarked sadly. "Fortunately, it's about as hard for a cambion to kill himself as it is for anyone else."

"Speaking of circumstances beyond your control…" Ron queried, "Where was he during all the trouble with Voldemort? Don't you think he could have been rather useful?"

"There were other perils in the world during those dark times, Ron; perhaps some of them were even more of a threat than Voldemort. Troy almost single-handedly kept those perils manageable. Needless to say, his unique talents were of dire use elsewhere."

"You taught me long ago that I should not judge people due to things beyond their control as well." Harry admitted, somewhat sheepishly, "It appears once again you were right. But considering what you just said, that means you must take this Disciple of Voldemort quite seriously to bring Troy here."

"I do… him and the strange group of wizards that seem to be aligned with him." Dumbledore said. He held up a ragged scrap of a wizard's robe, torn by hands and teeth and caked with blood. The three instantly recognized it as some of what little remained of the dark wizard Andromeda. Half of the unusual crimson emblem was visible, and clearly that had been what Dumbledore took interest in.

"I have been asking around most of this day, trying to find any information at all about any wizard group that carries this insignia. To my surprise, my rather extensive list of contacts came up with nothing."

"A new cult of sorts, perhaps?" Hermione asked.

"That was my first instinct, yes." Dumbledore said, "But it was the things that Andromeda had said that made me begin to wonder. She seemed to have intimate knowledge of cambions, and Troy in particular, things she would not know unless she or someone else had been observing him for a good long time."

"So, you now think that this cult has been established for some time, and have managed to keep out of sight for this long?"

"Indeed." Dumbledore said grimly. "Which disturbs me most of all. I have come to learn that any group that takes such pains to remain out of even the most trained of eyes does not suddenly emerge unless whatever plans they are hatching are perilously near to completion."

"Like gathering an army that even Voldemort would envy and again laying siege to the wizarding world?" Ron asked.

"Perhaps… but this is where the web of intrigue begins to weave." Dumbledore corrected. "If conquest was their plan, then why remain so secretive even now as their army has gathered such great numbers? No, I fear that this is merely part of their plan."

"A plan we need to discover, and quickly." Harry said firmly. "However, Christmas is tomorrow, and I suspect we will all need our sleep so that we can be ready for the remaining students when they invariably wake up hours before dawn."

Ron found himself stifling back a yawn at the suggestion. "Who would have thought just reading some books would take so much out of a person?"

"Had you actually read books as a student, you would." Hermione shot back, her facial expression not entirely humorous. "Nonetheless, I suppose Harry is correct. No sense being half dead while the students are bouncing off the walls."

First Ron, then Hermione filtered down the office stairs, but just before Harry was about to do the same, he stopped, and turned back to the headmaster. "Forgive me if I'm prying… but I am rather curious about something."

Dumbledore's eyebrows lifted, and he remarked, "Well, since you are not a cat, I doubt your curiosity will be fatal, but nonetheless I am here to answer whatever questions you might have."

"In your memories… Troy claimed you were searching for something, and that you felt he might help you find whatever you were looking for. If I may be so bold to ask… what were you looking for?"

Dumbledore smiled wanly, as if torn between reluctance to discuss whatever was on his mind, and a desire to finally talk about it. After a short silence, it appeared the latter won out. "We are born… we live… and we die. I suspect you understand this more keenly than most."

Harry nodded.

"But… what lies beyond this fragile and finite life we live? Do you know? Surely you've given it some thought; about where your mother and father are at this moment, or if they are anywhere at all. Surely your mind drifts to Sirius, or Cedric, or Neville… what is the result of their sacrifices? Is there something waiting for them? Or is death merely a precipice to a void in which everything is obliterated, never to be known again?"

Harry was silent, deciding the question was more rhetorical than anything else. Dumbledore should know well that he had thought of those things.

"You see, Harry… my parents also died when I was at a young age." Dumbledore said sadly, "Granted, not nearly as young as you were… but the principle is the same. After my schooling was completed… I had to know. I had to know if there was something more to this life… something that I could look forward to… somewhere that I could meet them again."

"So, why study cambions, then?"

"They were something tangible, something that could perhaps prove to me what I had hoped for. That they knew something about the fate that we face when we pass on."

"Did they?"

Dumbledore shrugged. "I never could really say. The few cambions I managed to approach for any protracted period of time were loathe to speak of their origins, and perhaps understandably so. Troy appears to have been one of the few cambions born here, and thus has no knowledge of the other planes of existence. Yet, coming to know him helped me reach one important conclusion nevertheless."

Harry raised his eyebrows, now genuinely curious. "What would that be?"

"Life is too short to waste worrying about what comes next. You should be concerned with the life you have, and making it as good for yourself and for others as you can. Our fight is here… the rest will take care of itself."

Harry again was silent, mulling over whether or not to press the issue. Finally, he said, "Have a merry Christmas, Albus. Good night." He then turned about, and left the office.


	6. An Uninvited Guest

Chapter six: An Uninvited Guest

Harry woke just after four in the morning, and quickly decided that further sleep would be unlikely. Throwing on his robes, he decided to head down to the kitchens and see if one of the house elves would be able to garner him a cup of coffee to start what passed for morning.

However, on the way his train of thought was derailed by a slight sensation, almost like the brush of a feather, across his scar. Clearly, Troy had finally returned from wherever he had disappeared to, and Harry decided to clear the air with the half-demon man. The tingle led him to the North Tower, where in the waning moonlight, he saw Troy perched on the edge of the palisade, looking out into the horizon.

"Just get back?" Harry asked softly, so as not to startle Troy right off the ledge.

"About an hour ago." He answered. "I take it Albus told you everything about me."

Harry nodded. "He did. Rather silly to be all worried now that I know everything. I've been taught better than that."

"I wasn't insulted, if that's what you're worried about." Troy replied. "You and your friends actually took it quite well. Even Miss Fitzsimmons… I've seen great men several times her age cower in my presence."

Harry laughed. "I asked her after… well, you know… what possessed her to cast a light spell. She quite smugly replied that your eyes reminded her of what she had read in some of her Muggle fantasy books, and that 'light really is just another type of heat, after all'."

Troy chortled, "That doesn't surprise me. Muggles might not live in a magical world, but they do have their advantages. I dare say that there are parts of the Muggle world that are superior to this one; one of them being the pursuit of learning how and why things work the way they do."

"I assume you frequent the Muggle side of life, then?" Harry asked, taking a place just behind and to the right of the black clothed man.

Troy nodded, "I'm just Troy Ailona there. Granted, I have a bizarre eye condition that renders me very sensitive to light, but I'm perfectly normal in every other regard. No questions, no fear, a couple odd stares from strangers, but quickly dismissed soon after."

Harry laughed, "Sounds like an idea I could use."

"Get tired of being the famous Harry Potter every so often?"

"A little more than every so often, actually… I'd wager at least once per day I wish I could just disappear." Harry sighed wistfully, "Especially since people have lately been recognizing me for something I particularly don't want to be remembered for."

Troy finally turned to face Harry, his red eyes passive. "From what I heard about Voldemort, he had it coming."

"I won't argue with that… I just don't like being attached to the stigma of a killer."

Troy's eyes narrowed visibly. "I'm afraid you won't get much sympathy from me."

"At least you have a reason." Harry amended. "I just did it because I wanted to. You understand me? I wanted Voldemort dead, and I was going to make sure I did it, and did it good. Clearly we all have that dark side to ourselves… but I'm being routinely connected to that alter ego. How do you manage that without going mad?"

"I'm not sure I can help you in that regard." Troy said with a shake of his head. "The people who know me for what I am know enough about me to distance my demonic heritage from the person I am trying to be."

"Oh." Harry answered then added earnestly, "Well, I do suspect we have more in common than you'd think. After all, we both have sides to themselves that we'd rather not acknowledge, and wish never existed, right?"

Troy's eyes softened, and he replied in partial agreement, "Sure."

"Will you join us for the Christmas celebration? Or are you… well… not hungry?"

"I do eat normal food, if that's what you're getting at." Troy said with a roll of his eyes. "And… I'll think about it."

"Good. Because I suspect that there are those of us in this world who will accept you for what you are, without the need of ignorance." Harry placed his hand on Troy's shoulder before finishing, "But you need to give us a chance."

With a gentle, friendly pat, Harry stepped away, and retreated to the castle interior to be ready for the children who were no doubt already beginning to awaken in anticipation of the coming day.

Harry knew he was _supposed_ to be an adult, but there still was an excitement about Christmas morning that he had never been able to entirely banish. Thus, he wasn't nearly as upset with the younger students (and even some of the older ones) when they began bustling about at 6:30 in the morning, mulling about and eventually stirring the entire school to alertness, as some of the older professors had been.

The Great Hall, which never seemed crammed even when the entire student body was present for a meal, felt slightly cramped with the mass of presents and other goodies as the students charged towards the trees set up for each of their respective houses. Harry noticed that there was already a fair deal of bustle around the Gryffindor tree, and thus wandered in that direction.

From the confusion, Julie emerged with a flat, yet reasonably thick present that he recognized. She dashed over to Harry, and gave his waist a tight hug. "Thank you, Professor Potter! Thank you very much!"

Harry laughed, and replied, "You don't even know what it is yet."

"But it's from you, so I know it will be good!"

"Well, I'm flattered in your confidence in me, but why don't you open it anyway?"

Julie nodded, and with a youthful vigor, ripped the entire front of the wrapping paper away with one almost violent swipe. She gasped in delight as the cover of _Quiddich__ for the Ages_ was exposed, and she once again hugged Harry.

"Julie… Julie… there's more. Why don't you check the bookmark I gave you?"

Curiously, she slowly flipped open the front cover, and her jaw dropped in amazement. Inside was a gift certificate for one thousand galleons towards the purchase of a broom.

"First years are generally not allowed to have brooms, but there's nothing against the rules against have the means to purchase one." Harry explained. "I suspect you'll be able to garner a pretty impressive tool over the summer with that."

Another voiceless hug was his reward, and he responded with a somewhat sheepish rub on the top of her head.

"I see someone likes her present." Hermione quipped from behind him.

"I rather figured she would." Harry replied, looking down on Julie with a broad smile. "Now why don't you go find some of your other presents?"

Julie shook her head violently, "I know what Professor Granger wants, and I want to be there when we all give it to you."

"It was her idea, you see." Hermione said. "We all pitched in a little, even Professor Snape." Hermione jerked a thumb over to the Head of Slytherin House, who was glumly looking over the proceedings from one of the tables reserved for the Christmas breakfast that would take part after all the gift giving.

Harry suddenly felt a strong compulsion to have a long discussion with the Potions professor, but there was a stronger compulsion pulling him towards where the other professors had gathered… or more precisely, two compulsions, one latched on to each arm, and tugging insistently on his robes.

Deciding that further resistance would soon require the mending of garments, Harry allowed Hermione and Julie to guide him towards where the Headmaster's table usually sat, but in this case was replaced by a massive specimen of white pine, it's needles flashing yellow, red, green, and blue at random intervals.

Hermione pawed through the pile of presents under the tree, disappearing up to her shoulders in the mass of gifts. Ron stifled a giggle as she continued to rummage, which earned him a scathing glare from the woman in question before she dove back in. With a triumphant, "Aha!" Hermione squirmed out from under the tree, bearing a wrapped gift that looked suspiciously like a broom.

"I know it's pretty obvious what it is…" Hermione said with an embarrassed shrug after handing off to Harry. "It just arrived about an hour ago… those things are on such insane backorder, and finalizing the sale was a bear."

"I had to pull quite a few strings to get my team owner to push the order through… and I had to sign another year extension to my contract to get him to do so." Ron explained, and seeing Harry's almost shocked disbelief, added, "No worries, I was going to sign an extension anyway, of course, that'll be our little secret, okay?" He then elbowed Harry in the ribs conspiratorially and winked.

His head swimming, Harry slowly unwrapped the bright silver wrapping starting from the top of the handle. With a sigh, Julie groaned, "Adults… they have no idea how to open a present…" She then grabbed the shimmering paper along the bristle end of the broom, and with a loud ripping sound, tore the bottom third of the paper away.

With a smile, Harry joined Julie in her efforts, ripping and tearing from the top until they met just above the middle of the handle. Harry went silent as his hand ran along the crimson painted handle, with the words "Firebolt 4500 Deluxe Editon: Professional Standard" etched in gold at the top.

"No… that thing must have cost…"

"47,000 galleons, if I remember correctly, Mr. Weasely?" Dumbledore asked, and seeing Ron's nod, continued, "Of course, due to Mr. Weasely's memorable sacrifice, the price was lowered considerably."

"I can't possibly accept this…"

"Of course you will." Hermione giggled. "Besides, I don't want to have to tell Troy that his charitable donation was rejected."

Harry's eyebrow rose quizzically. "Troy?"

"You see, after we pooled everything together, we were still roughly 5,000 galleons short, and Ron had already done his share in contributing and all."

Ron cut in, "I was willing to pay the remaining difference… but noooooo…"

"Hush!" Hermione snapped back. "Anyway, we started making little collections among the houses, discreetly of course. Even a few Slytherins chipped in. Professor Snape gave almost a hundred Galleons himself. Even with that, we only managed another thousand Galleons or so, and were in a right fit as to what to do. I was actually about to cave into Ron's request, when late last night, Troy pops in from wherever he had gone, and drops this heaping bag of gold in my lap."

"I still have no bloody idea where he got all that money." Ron said with an amazed whistle. "All he would tell us is that we'd be amazed the sort of loot you compile after saving the Western World a couple twenty times."

With that, Harry broke into a full toothed grin. "Well then, I better take it, just to appease the masses who signed away life and limb to get it here." He gingerly ran his hand once more along the handle as if afraid it would break.

"Well, did Professor Potter get a new toy?" Draco sneered from behind him. "You kill a few people, and you're so admired that they'll bend over backwards for you. Funny how that worked for You-Know-Who as well…"

Harry suddenly felt like someone had just ripped his heart out… leaving a gaping emptiness behind. In his own twisted way, Draco was right. What had separated Harry from Voldemort in those minutes that Harry became a murderer? Sure, he had been given many reasons from his friends, but deep down, Harry had rejected all of them.

He had been protecting his friends… perhaps to an extent, but there was little doubt after the third Killing Curse that Voldemort had been in no condition to do anything to anyone.

It had been for the good of the world… Once again, there had been no reason for Harry to go to such an extreme. He wanted Voldemort to suffer… to hurt more than any person ever had… but more importantly, Harry had wanted the satisfaction of the suffering to come from his own hands.

He had been understandably angry… That had been it, but it had hardly been an excuse. Harry had come to the conclusion that rather than Voldemort was indeed his opposite, but not in the way that Dumbledore had always surmised. Harry and Voldemort had been two sides of the same coin, the power of their emotions driving them… Harry's had been love for his friends and for the life he had come into… Voldemort's had been his hatred of all those things, and what they stood for. And for roughly five horrifying minutes… Harry had been everything Voldemort had been.

Harry's introspective was interrupted by the tingling of his scar, and Troy's voice coming from behind Draco. "If you're looking for trouble, Mr. Malfoy… why don't you just step outside and I'll give you all the trouble you could ever possibly want." The cambion growled, his face twisted in a threatening grimace.

Not surprisingly, Draco slightly cowered from the half-demon, and slowly slinked away towards the Slytherin tables where he suspected he would find support. Troy shook his head, glaring at the retreating form. "You know, when a man with demonic blood through his veins can find more merriment in the holiday season than someone… that person is living a truly empty life indeed."

He turned a nervous eye towards the gathering, and was suddenly nervous, rubbing the back of his head. "Quite a festive scene you've concocted, Albus. I… guess I wanted to see what all the fuss down here was about."

"You're more than welcome to join us, Troy." Harry affirmed. "It's going to be a bit before the food comes out, though."

"Should have told us you were coming." Ron said sheepishly. "We would have had a present for you too."

Troy waved it off, "It's hardly necessary."

"Nonsense. Everyone should have something for Christmas." Ron protested.

"And I repeat, it's hardly…" Troy began then looked down when he felt someone tugging on his trenchcoat. "Oh, hello, Miss Fitzsimmons."

"This is for you." Julie said, holding up a small rectangular box wrapped in a red and green striped paper and topped with a golden flower bow and ribbon. "When I learned that you had a hard time seeing in bright light, I had Professor Flitwick help me."

Inquisitively, Troy split the paper with one fingernail, and popped open the top of the black felt box. With his free hand, he gingerly removed a pair of black rimmed wrap around sunglasses with lenses almost as black as the frame.

"It has an adjustable darkening enchantment to suit you in just about any lighting, and it contains a physical binding so that they won't fall off by accident."

With a humored grin, Troy replaced his eyewear with his new ones. His features suddenly smoothed, and Harry came to conclusion that Troy had likely been squinting the entire time. "Impressive. Most magical items are worthless to me… their enchantments tend not to have any effect whatsoever."

"Flitwick said that's just because most enchantments aren't cast with your kind in mind." Julie said with a shrug. "I'm glad it helps."

Harry took the opportunity of having everyone's attention away from him to sneak away from the gathering, and made a slow, deliberate path to where Snape was somewhat forlornly sitting by himself at one of the farthest tables from the action.

If Snape knew Harry was approaching before the younger wizard dropped down onto the bench across from him, he didn't show it. Snape didn't even acknowledge Harry's existence for another five seconds before he asked somewhat dourly, "What?"

Harry gave a lopsided grin, and said, "I guess I need to thank you. A hundred galleons is quite a sum, especially on a professor's salary."

"It's not like I had anything else to spend it on… nor, I will admit, was it your fault some vengeful Dark Lord pretender decided to destroy your broom."

Finally, Harry asked one question that had been nagging at him for a while. "Tell me about my father."

Snape eyed his colleague warily, as if waiting for some sort of trap. "I suspect there is a plethora of other people who were closer to him than I."

"Not necessarily." Harry answered. "I come to realize that there are many facets to every person. I've already heard plenty about the wondrous virtues my father had, but I know that he showed you a very different side of himself."

"I was not his friend, Potter." Snape warned. "I suspect you'd be quite insulted to hear what I have to say about him."

"I'm not my father, Severus."

Snape frowned at the use of his given name, but then said, "No… you are not. Very well, but do not say I didn't warn you…"

Snape's monologue of thinly veiled disgust ended roughly ten minutes later. In that time, James Potter, the braggart and bully, were clearly etched in Harry's mind, no longer just vaguely passed over quirks in other people's recollections.

"Well, if it is any consolation, I apologize. No one should be treated like that… regardless of who they are." Harry said.

"It's not. As you so well put it, you are not your father." Snape grunted. "Well, I hope I've eased your mind. Your father was hardly the perfect hero… nor was your mother, for that matter… you don't have to be either."

"So… was it that obvious what I was looking for?" Harry sighed.

Snape huffed. "I have a confession to make. I envied your father… just as I envied you. You had fame, wealth, and happiness… and I wanted it. But… I was just fooling myself, it appears."

"How so?"

"You may have fame… that much is clear. You might even have wealth… I know your parents left you a king's ransom. But happiness… perhaps it is still just as elusive for you as it is for someone like me. Now, I don't believe for one second that you'd really trade your life for mine… but maybe you don't have it as well as I had thought."

"And you don't have it as well as you should." Harry answered. "You deserve better for what you have done."

"My actions to help fell Voldemort was merely penance for earlier sins." Snape denied. "But I suppose it is nice for you to say so." Snape then scowled. "I suggest you get out of here. I have a reputation to keep."

Suddenly Snape jumped to his feet, and bellowed. "I've had enough of your prattling! That obnoxious Granger friend of yours badgered me until I finally gave her some coins to go away! Nothing more!"

Harry pulled away in mock exasperation, but nonetheless, the two professors shared one brief meeting of eyes that implied that perhaps things had changed between them… and finally for the better.

When he returned to his friends, Ron asked, "What the bloody hell was that all about? You were gone for a while."

Harry smirked. "Let's just say, Snape and I have come to an understanding."

"If that's the case… I don't ever want to understand him one bit."

Harry couldn't help but chuckle. "Where did Hermione go?" He suddenly asked.

Ron jerked a thumb over to the northwest corner "She just drug Troy over there about a second ago. Why do you ask?"

"I need to thank her for putting everything together for me." Harry replied then pulled one blue wrapped package out from under the tree. "Besides, you and I still have to give her our present."

Ron slapped his forehead, "Of course! Well, lead on then."

They began to move quickly towards their friend, who had her back to them and was shuffling her feet timidly. Thus, she didn't even know they were there as they closed to within feet of her.

Meanwhile, Troy said with mild frustration, "So, are you going to ask me your question, or are you just going to stammer incoherently until the feast starts?"

"This is hard… okay?" Hermione replied. "I… just… I understand you can read minds."

"Somewhat." Troy answered. "Depends on how profound the thought is. Why do you ask?"

"How profound does the thought need to be before you pick up on it?"

Troy shrugged. "There's no solid line of demarcation that I can tell."

With another deep breath, Hermione finally asked, "How many of my thoughts have you read?"

With a knowing grin, Troy replied, "Ah… now I see." His face then shifted upwards, looking directly at Harry and Ron. With a playful tone, he said, "Fear not. He won't find out about it from me."

"Oh no…" Hermione groaned in despair. "Am I that obvious?"

"Obvious about what, Hermy?" Ron quipped.

Hermione froze in complete terror. She slowly turned around, and met Harry's and Ron's eyes as they looked down on her expectantly. Her face turned almost as red as a beet, and she started to wring her hands guiltily, her eyes darting back and forth between Harry and Ron like she was a mouse surrounded by hungry cats.

Any words she might have uttered were quickly forgotten when they all noticed Troy's head suddenly jerk towards the main door to the Great Hall, less than a second before it was slammed open like it had been hit by a hurricane.

The hall died to an eerie silence as a figure cloaked completely in black took leisurely strides down the aisleway, and Harry instantly recognized the blood red eye etched on the back once the figure had passed. Clearly so did his friends, because Hermione gasped, and Ron made a sound somewhere between a cough and a cat hacking up a hairball.

"Merry Christmas, Albus Dumbledore!" The figure said with mocking cheer, outstretching his or her arms for maximum effect. "Best of the holidays to all the denizens of Hogwarts!"

"How…?" Dumbledore gaped. "You could not have gotten through the…"

"Come now, Mr. Dumbledore." The figure chided. "Surely I have demonstrated that there is no place beyond my reach… my hand reaches further than even my 'mentor'…" The figure suddenly seemed thoughtful. "Yes, perhaps it is time I abandon this title of 'Disciple'… and make my own name." With that declaration, the figure tossed back the hood and white mask covering his face.

Even Draco looked like he had been slugged in the gut. "Father… how…?"

Funny, that was similar to the question on Harry's mind…

"Hidden under cloak and cowl for five years… waiting for my chance… it has at last come. I am more than any dark wizard ever before. I am more than even death itself…"

Harry's eyes narrowed, and he said, "Funny… Voldemort thought the same thing…"

Lucius laughed spitefully as he slowly turned to face Harry. "That mudblood? Like all weak pathetic muggles, he couldn't and wouldn't embrace everything around him. I, on the other hand, have fully accepted the gift and power I knew he would be unable to use properly. To think he actually thought he controlled his destiny… he was nothing but a pawn… a pawn to an even greater power… the Order of the Crimson Eye!" Once again, he threw his arms open in a grandiose manner.

"As boorish and as arrogant as ever." Hermione growled, her hand tensing against her wand in her pocket, ready to attack the instant he made any threatening move.

Lucius's eyes shifted to her, and his lips curled into a sickening leer. "And you still have yet to learn your place, mudblood filth. The Order of the Crimson Eye is all that is truly significant in this world… we are the ultimate power that none can resist!"

The wizard casually lifted his wand, but before he had even brought it to a ready position, Troy launched into action. Harry had only been clued by the rush of wind as the cambion flashed by, and closed the distance with a speed that even surprised Lucius. With one punch, Troy connected with lethal force, literally punching through the dark wizards' form, his fist bulging the back of Lucius's robes with the sickening crack of bone and ripping of flesh.

Yet, Lucius looked down at the wound, as if amused. With a casual tone, he said, "Yes… the demon spawn. Let me assure you that the Crimson Eye has something special planned just for you…"

Soon after finishing that statement, Lucius disintegrated, leaving nothing but a sandy substance where he had once been. Troy clenched his extended fist a couple times, as if trying to grasp something only he could see, small grains of the sand falling from his hand as he did so.

"Well, that was… informative." Ron remarked, jolting everyone from the awkward silence that had filled the hall. "At least we know who's after you now, Harry."

Harry's eyes turned toward Draco, trying to gauge the young Malfoy's reaction. Draco appeared genuinely surprised, absentmindedly fiddling with the glowing pendant on his chest, suggesting that he had no foreknowledge of his father's plans.

Harry had not entirely shared in the stunning revelation. Deep down, he had been waiting for the other shoe to drop regarding Lucius Malfoy. Ever since Lucius had disappeared, eluding capture as Harry's attention had been drawn towards Voldemort, Harry had figured that Lucius had been planning something.

Dumbledore stood slowly, and for the first time that Harry could ever recall, Albus looked fundamentally shaken. It seemed like it took the Headmaster great effort to recover his voice, but admirably managed to sound unperturbed. "Children, I suspect that the feast will begin shortly, and I still see a few neglected presents underneath various trees. Miss McGonagall, Mr. Flitwick, may you watch over things for a few minutes?"

Quietly, Harry watched Dumbledore turn to Snape and say something. Snape nodded, then stood, and took step behind the Headmaster. Troy then took step, still looking down inquisitively at his hand, and finally, Dumbledore motioned at Harry, Ron, and Hermione as he passed.

It was a solemn procession towards the privacy of Dumbledore's office, even Peeves giving them a wide berth once Dumbledore made it painfully clear with nothing but his eyes that now was not the time for pranks.

Once their destination was reached, the headmaster took great pains to make sure that all the protections in the room were in place, understandably concerned that Lucius had decided to look around before making his presence known.

Apparently satisfied, Dumbledore made one last check of the stairwell, again closed off from the lobby then said, "I assume you reached the same conclusion I did, Troy?"

Troy nodded. "Lucius Malfoy has transformed himself into the one existence on this mortal coil that I cannot defeat through sheer force."

"Meaning…?" Ron interceded.

Snape sighed disparagingly, and replied, "Lucius Malfoy has become a lich."

"Wizards who wish to surrender their souls to remain on this world can in effect fuse themselves into an existence somewhere between life and death." Hermione explained before Ron could ask. "Their bodies are no longer living in the natural sense… but they're clearly not dead."

"The practice of forging undead is a branch of necromancy that even most Dark Wizards shy away from due to its unreliable nature and potential for disaster. Of the undead, a lich is by far the worst, as the mystical powers that fueled the wizard in life are largely boundless once the limits of their flesh are removed." Troy added. "You yourself battled a partial-lich, Harry, whenever you matched wits with Voldemort."

"A partial-lich?" Harry asked. His Auror studies were proving quite lacking in this field of discussion.

"From what I can discern, Voldemort performed some of the procedures to become a lich, but not all of them. Thus he had some of the protections on his body and soul like a lich, but without quite as much power that would have come in his full form."

"Then why stop?" Ron queried, "Voldemort valued power after all else, after all."

"Incorrect." Troy responded, "He valued his own life over power, and while becoming a full lich would have given him power far greater than anything on this mortal coil, it would have also given him a great weakness as well… a weakness that would render all his power moot if discovered."

For a brief moment, Harry allowed himself a shred of reined hope. "And that weakness would be?"

Again, Hermione inserted herself into the conversation. "As I said earlier, to become a lich, a wizard must surrender his soul from his body. That life-force is then forged into an artifact called a phylactery. If you destroy the phylactery, you destroy the lich."

"Well, that sounds simple enough." Ron remarked warily. "Too simple, actually."

"It's not simple." Troy acknowledged. "Lichs rarely carry their phylacteries on them. They're usually very well hidden, out of sight and mind, perhaps even to the lich itself."

"I am curious as to how our 'caretaker' is so learned in the ways of lichs, especially when most dark practitioners are even uncertain as to what makes them what they are." Snape said softly.

"Let's just say around November of the year 1917 in 'Mother Russia', I happened across a lich that I very nearly didn't survive meeting. When said lich was finally destroyed… his notes were uncovered. I took great effort to learn from them in order to prevent a repeat of my first encounter."

Hermione's eyes bulged in amazement. "You fought… Rasputin? Incredible, so few ever lived to tell the tale of crossing his path that so little is truly known about him."

"When we have dealt with this current problem, I'll willingly subject myself to whatever curiosities you may have." Troy said then added thoughtfully. "Perhaps that old journal could even be of help to us now. There were portions of his notes that contained arcane lore that even to this day I likely do not understand… but perhaps some of you would. The more we know about the type of monster we're dealing with, the better."

"Agreed." Dumbledore replied, "Meanwhile, while there is much we do not know about the Order of the Crimson Eye, we can still learn as much as we can about the forces that are aligned with it."

"What about the students?" Hermione asked.

"I am going to appeal to Minister Fudge to allow me to cancel the remaining year." Dumbledore said reluctantly. "Malfoy has demonstrated that Hogwart's is not as safe as I had initially thought it was."

"Then I'll leave." Harry answered. "I'm the one he's after."

Dumbledore shook his head. "That would not be prudent. Perhaps he is out to end your life. But, now knowing the face of our enemy, I am completely certain that Hogwart's itself will be a target of his wrath. I will need all the allies I can muster in its defense. Meanwhile, I will do what I can to keep my students out of harm's way."

"So, I take it our plan of action is in place?" Troy remarked. "Well, then I suggest the rest of you try and at least pretend to enjoy the rest of day for the students remaining here, while I get to work. I'm not sure how long it will take me to convince my superiors to release Rasputin's journal… but I will return with as much haste as I can manage."

"I wish you a quick journey. Now, I ask the rest of you to take over for McGonagall and Flitwick, and send them up to speak with me. There is much we have to do, and not much time to do it in."


End file.
